Professor Strange
by Zalanor
Summary: What if, during Harry's fight with Quirrellmort for the Philosopher's Stone, the Orb of Agamotto notified the Sorcerer Supreme of something in Scotland that required his attention? AU pretty quickly, slight Dumbledore-bashing. Please review! SEQUEL NOW UP.
1. Chapter 1: Sorcery in Scotland

Disclaimer: Doctor Strange and all associated characters are the property of Marvel Comics/ Marvel Studios. Harry Potter and all associated characters are the property of J.K. Rowling.

 **Chapter 1**

 _177a Bleecker Street, Greenwich, New York City – The Sanctum Sanctorum_

As he frequently did, Doctor Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme, Master of the Mystic Arts, entered a certain one of the myriad rooms of his residence and shielded his eyes. Though the room was lit solely by candles, when the object housed in this room was released from its case, it would blind the unprepared in a second with the radiance of its light. "Orb of Agamotto, through thy all seeing gaze – reveal to me what afflicts the world, in these such trying days!" The Orb rose from its case and produced a number of spheres of nebulous, coloured light. Each sphere indicated a magical threat to the Earth, the type determined by colour and the size by, well, its size. Stephen knew that Wong disapproved of the enchantment he had placed upon the Orb – altering magical artefacts, especially those created by Agamotto or any of the other Principalities, rankled his faithful servant.

"The artefacts in your keeping should be kept as they are, Master. Though you are the Sorcerer Supreme, what should befall the world if one of your adjustments causes a relic to cease to function?" Wong had of course respected his Master's viewpoint when he shared it: "The Orb sees all magical threats to Earth, Wong. All at the same time. While this is of course useful and powerful, even the mightiest mystic has but one pair of eyes. I cannot take the time to watch each threat, for any delay in countering a threat may lead it to grow in severity."

:Putting his memories aside for the time being, Stephen walked to the centre of the room and regarded the Orb's half dozen "search results" - ALERT: THE FORCES OF REICH 666 ARE ATTACKING THE NEXUS OF ALL REALITIES. ALERT: SVARTALF PRESENCE IN WAKANDA. ALERT: THE COVENANT IS MEETING IN 12 DAYS. ALERT: NECROMANCY IS BEING PERFORMED IN CANADA. ALERT: THE MIRROR OF LEWIS CARROLL HAS BEEN FRACTURED. ALERT: A HALF-WRAITH IS OBTAINING THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE. It was the last result that gave the Sorcerer Supreme concern. The Man-Thing, Black Panther, and the magical members of Alpha Flight; Shaman, Snowbird and Talisman, could handle the threats to their regions of activity easily enough, the Covenant was merely a revisit of the terms binding the eternal war between Heaven and Hell, and the Mirrorverse of Wonderland would quickly seal itself off, the reflection of damage to the mirror in this reality being repair to it in Wonderland.

The Orb indicated that the Philosopher's Stone was in the highlands of Scotland.

Hurrying to a chair, Stephen calmed his mind enough to project his astral self. He had never been to Scotland, and would need to see it before he could use his sling ring to travel there. Thus, astral projection, by which he could travel at the speed of thought, was required. He could survey the entire area surrounding the threat in a fraction of a second, and thus determine suitable spells to cast before physically meeting the danger.

\- Scene change – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry -

Following the Orb's magical traces to Scotland, Stephen found the threat was in a castle. An actual medieval castle. And it was inhabited. As his astral body passed (invisibly of course) through the walls, it seemed the castle was mostly populated by _children_! What was this place? His question was answered when he saw a severe looking woman call out to a boy who looked about 12, who was _levitating another child's bag_ , and gave him a detention! This castle was a school, and not only that, a school of magic! Why had the Ancient One never told him of this place?

Putting the query out of his mind for the moment, Stephen finally came upon the source of the Orb's alert. In a room with all the exits sealed off by fire, the Half-Wraith (a man with a serpentine looking face in the back of his head, obviously the possessing spirit) was grappling with a boy! Stephen knew he must stop this. Instantly returning to his physical body, Stephen rose from his seat, raised his hands, and making circular motions with the first two fingers of his left hand, conjured a sparking orange circle in the air. Stepping through, he saw that the two combatants were stunned by his sudden appearance. He knew he must act fast. "By the Mystic Moons of Munnopoor, that bathe the stars in light, by the Icy Talons of Ithkalon, that deliver cold's harsh bite! By the power of dark Satannish, and the might of Oshtur's name, possessing soul I force thee, return to whence thou came!" And screaming as it came, the face on the back of the man's head dissolved into smoke, and left the chamber, as the spell drove it back to its place of origin. Where that was, Stephen did not know. However, the exorcism had proved too great a strain on the "vessel", and he collapsed on the floor, dead. The boy however, merely stared at him and managed to get out the word "Who…" before passing out.

Closing his portal, Stephen's medical training took over. The boy had multiple cuts and scrapes on his arms and face, and a scar on his forehead that had formed in a lightning bolt shape. Checking for broken bones, Stephen was alarmed to discover that the boy was almost painfully thin, suggesting prior malnutrition. Owing to this place's distance from any large residential areas, this was a boarding school, so the boy's condition must predate his attendance. Stephen disliked having to take the next step, but in the absence of medical records he had to be sure.

Stephen settled into the position of Nirvana, and projected his astral form once again. This time however, instead of being a life size translucent copy of his physical body, the projection was only a few inches tall. Stephen braced himself, and then dove into the boy's head and entered his mind. Stephen learned from his search of the boy's memories that his name was Harry Potter, sorted into Gryffindor House (whatever that meant), and that prior to his coming to this school (Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry), he had lived with his aunt, uncle and cousin. They hated him, treated him like a slave, and subjected him to abuse. The boy had slept in a cupboard under the stairs for Hoggoth's sake! And all this because he was a wizard, or as they though of him, a freak. Evidently the boy could not be permitted to return to them. His conscience as a fellow magical practitioner, doctor, and human being could not allow it.

Knowing that young minds were still developing and that an extended presence within them could have negative effects, Stephen left Harry's mind, returned to his body, and waited for someone who was in charge of this place to show up. While most people would have sat on the floor to sit how he was doing, Stephen thought, most people did not possess the Cloak of Levitation. Stephen was sat cross legged, hands on his knees, three feet above the floor. This, he smiled, should be a good impression for whoever turned up.


	2. Chapter 2: Good News in the Hospital

**Chapter 2**

 _Quoted from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

 _Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy. He blinked. It wasn't the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange. He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him. "Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore. Harry stared at him. Then he remembered. "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick-"_

" _Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore. "Quirrell does not have the Stone." "Then who does? Sir, I-" "Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out._ As will, in fact, your other visitor." _Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realised he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet-shop._ Standing behind the table was a man in a blue shirt and trousers, with yellow gloves, a large yellow sash around his waist, and wearing a red cloak with a high collar. He had a strange gold circle hanging from his neck, a thin black moustache, piercing grey eyes, and black hair that was streaked with white at his temples.

" _Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons with you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a lavatory seat. No doubt they though it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, thought it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it." "How long have I been in here?" "Three days. Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."_

" _But sir, the Stone-" "I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you._ Mr Strange –" " **Doctor** Strange," corrected the mysterious man. "I arrived in time to expel – Voldemort, was it, Professor Dumbledore? – from Professor Quirrell. Incidentally, Harry, you will not be going back to the Dursleys. In fact, you will not be living with them ever again." "What do you mean, sir?" asked Harry. What was going to happen to him? Would he be going to an orphanage? The answer was nothing like what he was fearing. "When you collapsed, Harry, I examined you as a doctor should have when you first came to this school and they saw your physical condition," Here, Dr Strange almost seemed to glare at Dumbledore. "Besides the cuts and scrapes I was expecting, I found evidence that you had, at some point, been repeatedly beaten and suffered from starvation. This alarmed me, so, as it was the sole option I had, I read your mind and accessed your memories of your so-called "guardians". "What did you do to them Sir? Are they in prison?" "Of a sort," smiled Dr Strange…


	3. Chapter 3: The Dursleys Dealt With

**Chapter 3**

\- Scene change – Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England -

The Dursleys were sat in their living room, watching television. Both Vernon and Dudley were eating, Dudley stuffing as much food into his mouth as possible, while Petunia was sewing buttons onto one of Dudley's shirts. After they had burst off for the third time. Suddenly, the television stopped working, the air took on the appearance of being filled with shards of mirrors, and all three Dursleys, to the eyes of any observer, vanished. To each member of the Dursley family, however, it was the other two that had disappeared. Each one's response, (Dudley's somewhat slower, due to only looking up from his food when his minute brain registered his plate was empty), was to jump out of their seat and shout "FREAKS!" at the top of their voice. A stern voice with no apparent source was the reply they received. "For eleven years, you subjected Harry Potter to physical and mental abuse, or participated in it, making him feel utterly alone in the world. Prison would not work on you, as you most likely would get out before serving your full sentence. So, welcome to the Mirror Dimension. A prison that you will never leave, and will inflict on you what Harry felt – complete loneliness. You can observe the "real" world, but are incapable of interacting with it. Enjoy the rest of your lives. I know Harry will."

Vernon, Petunia and Dudley were all in the Mirror Dimension, but on different dimensional wavelengths. It was effectively solitary confinement. A person unused to magic might consider this overly harsh, but as Stephen had once replied to someone who protested the need for the law and due process in dealing with a thief and murderer who went by the name Brigand, and who would have got away with his crimes if dealt with by "normal" means – "Sorcerers have little patience for the laws of nature, and even less for the laws of man."

\- Scene change - Hogwarts-

Harry was still worried. "So if I'm not going to the Dursleys, where am I going Professor?" Dumbledore smiled. "I've made arrangements with Arthur and Molly – Mr and Mrs Weasley, that is – for you to stay with them, at least over the summer holidays. Now, you need your rest, and Mr, ahem, Doctor Strange and I have some things we need to discuss." Harry lay back in his bed, and watched as Dumbledore and Doctor Strange, which he had to smile at, was a strange name, left the hospital wing.

Stephen followed Professor Dumbledore through the castle. They both cut imposing figures, and everyone who saw them – from students and teachers, to the subjects of moving portraits and ghosts, paused in what they were doing to watch them pass, and them immediately began wondering who the man with the Headmaster was.

Eventually, they arrived at a statue of a gryphon. Dumbledore cleared his throat, and said "Lemon Drops". The gryphon moved aside, revealing the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Entering, Stephen stood and stared for a moment. Even to one as powerful and knowledgeable as he was, the number of magical artefacts in this room was astounding. After giving Stephen a moment to stare, Dumbledore rounded on him. "Now, Doctor. How did you manage to enter my school, when with the exception of myself, it is impossible to Apparate onto the grounds? Secondly, with what occurred in the hospital wing, are you daring to suggest that I do not have Harry's best interests at heart? Thirdly, who are you?"

Stephen sighed. He had been expecting some form of Spanish Inquisition. "To answer your first question, I assume that by "Apparate" you mean to travel between two points without physically traversing the intervening space?" When Dumbledore nodded, Stephen continued. "There are other forms of magic than just your own, Professor Dumbledore," Pulling his sling ring from his sash, he held it up for Dumbledore's inspection. "This is a sling ring. Trained in its use, a magical practitioner can open portals between two points, whether on Earth or in another dimension.

Secondly, Harry's mother and father are dead. In the absence of say, grandparents, as I suppose that could be possible, did you not think that his parents would have not made stipulation in their wills as to Harry's care in the event of their deaths? If they did, why in the name of the Vishanti did you not abide by their wishes? If, and this is a big if, they didn't, or for some reason you were unable to do so, why did you not seek responsible carers, or at least meet with his non-magical relatives first instead of leaving him on the doorstep in the middle of the night with a letter? For goodness sake, man! He could have frozen to death! And even if you HAD met them, and they did take him in, would it not have been RESPONSIBLE of you to CHECK HOW HE WAS occasionally?! The INSTANT it becomes apparent that a child is being abused by their guardians, the child SHOULD BE TAKEN FROM THEM!

Stephen paused in his tirade to calm down and catch his breath. He could see that Dumbledore was looking at him with a combination of guilt, fear and respect. "And to answer your last question – I am Doctor Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts, and current Sorcerer Supreme of this dimension."

Dumbledore spent several minutes reviewing what Stephen told him, while Stephen himself paced around the office, examining the myriad magical instruments. Eventually, he nodded as if he had come to a decision, and walked over to Stephen. "One final question for you Doctor." He took a deep breath, as this was an important question to breach. "Would you be interested in a teaching position?"


	4. Chapter 4: To the Burrow

**Chapter 4**

The end of the school year came rather quickly. Through last-minute points awarded to Ron, Hermione, Harry and Neville, Gryffindor snatched the House Cup from Slytherin. Hagrid gave Harry a photo album full of wizarding photos of his parents. The train took the students away from Hogwarts, and on Platform 9 ¾, the Weasleys were waiting for Percy, the twins, Ron, and Harry. Ron was ecstatic that Harry would be staying with them, as Dumbledore had made Harry promise he wouldn't tell Ron until they got off the train. Harry himself was delighted about being rid of the Dursleys, and that he would be living in the wizarding world permanently now. Where that was, he didn't much care as long as it wasn't with Malfoy or any of his cronies.

Standing on the platform with Mr and Mrs Weasley was a 10 year old girl with red hair like the rest of her family. Ron, winking at Harry as if to say "Watch this" made a beeline for her. "Hey, Ginny. Guess who's staying with us over the summer? Harry Potter!" Ginny's jaw dropped to the floor, and turned to stare directly at Harry. Her face turned white, then as red as her hair, and finally she fainted into her mother's arms. "Ron!", Mrs Weasley scolded. "That was a very stupid thing to do!" Fred, George and Harry all burst out laughing. "Aww, has little Gin-Gin collapsed with shock at meeting the love of her life, Gred?" "I believe she has, Forge. She's dreamt of marrying you since she was about three, Harry."

After Ginny had come round, the Weasleys and Harry made their way to the Leaky Cauldron, where they joined the queue for the Floo. Mr Weasley explained it to Harry. "It's very simple Harry. All you do is take a pinch of the powder, throw it into the fire, say "The Burrow" clearly, step through, and you'll be at our house." Harry wasn't too sure about this form of transport. What happened if you sneezed when you said where you wanted to go? What if you got stuck in the chimney? His worries were unfounded however. When it came to his turn, there were no problems. After a few seconds of feeling like he was being sucked down a giant plughole, he emerged into a small and rather cramped kitchen.

 _Quoted from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_

Harry looked around with interest. _He had never been in a wizard house before. The clock on the wall opposite him had only one hand and no numbers at all. written around the edge were things like "Time to make tea", "Time to feed the chickens" and "You're late". Books were stacked three deep on the mantelpiece, books with titles like Charm Your Own Cheese, Enchantment in Baking, and One Minute Feasts – It's Magic!_

"Come on Harry, out the way," said Ron. "Fred and George'll be coming through, and they'll knock you over if you're standing in the way. They both always want to be the first of either them to do something, doesn't matter what it is. The only times it's not a competition between them is when they're plotting something." Not wanting to be shoved to the floor, Harry moved as far as he could from the fireplace. True to Ron's word, the twins were scuffling as they emerged from the fireplace. George was elbowing Fred in the stomach, while Fred was rubbing ashes into George's hair.

"Mum'll sort them out," Ron muttered to Harry. " _Come on, I'll show you my bedroom." They slipped out of the kitchen and down a narrow passageway to an uneven staircase, which zigzagged its way up through the house. On the third landing, a door stood ajar. Harry just caught sight of a pair of bright brown eyes staring at him before it closed with a snap. "Ginny," said Ron. "You don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy, she never shuts up normally." They climbed two more flights until they reached a door with peeling paint and a small plaque on it, saying "Ronald's Room"._

 _Harry stepped in, his head almost touching the sloping ceiling, and blinked. It was like walking into a furnace: nearly everything in Ron's room seemed to be a violent shade of orange: the bedspread, the walls, even the ceiling. Then Harry realised that Ron had covered nearly every inch of the shabby wallpaper with posters of the same seven witches and wizards, all wearing bright orange robes, carrying broomsticks and waving energetically. "Your Quidditch team?" said Harry. "The Chudley Cannons," said Ron, pointing at the orange bedspread, which was emblazoned with two giant black Cs and a speeding cannonball. "Ninth in the league."_ Harry slowly turned on the spot, looking round the room and taking it all in. _Then he turned to look at Ron, who was watching him almost nervously, as though waiting for his opinion. But, Harry, grinning widely, said "This is the best house I've ever been in." Ron's ears went pink._


	5. Chapter 5: Weasley Life

**Chapter 5**

 _Quoted from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_

 _Life at The Burrow was as different as possible from life in Privet Drive. The Dursleys liked everything neat and ordered; the Weasleys' house burst with the strange and unexpected. Harry got a shock the first time he looked in the mirror over the kitchen mantelpiece and it shouted "Tuck your shirt in, scruffy!" The ghoul in the attic howled and dropped pipes whenever he felt things were getting too quiet, and small explosions from Fred and George's room were considered perfectly normal. What Harry found most unusual about life at Ron's, however, wasn't the talking mirror or the clanking ghoul: it was the fact that everybody there seemed to like him._

 _Mrs Weasley fussed over the state of his socks and tried to force him to eat fourth helpings at every meal. Mr Weasley liked Harry to sit next to him at the dinner table so that he could bombard him with questions about life with Muggles, asking him to explain how things like plugs and the postal service worked. "Fascinating!" he would say, as Harry talked him through using a telephone. "Ingenious, really, how many ways Muggles have found of getting along without magic."_

The Weasleys and Harry heard from Hogwarts in the middle of August. Harry and Ron went down to breakfast one morning _to find Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ginny already sitting at the kitchen table. The moment she saw Harry, Ginny accidentally knocked her porridge bowl to the floor with a loud clatter. Ginny seemed very prone to knocking things over whenever Harry entered a room. She dived under the table to retrieve the bowl and emerged with her face glowing like the setting sun. Pretending he hadn't noticed this, Harry sat down and took the toast Mrs Weasley offered him. "Letters from school," said Mr Weasley, passing Harry and Ron identical envelopes of yellowish parchment, addressed in green ink. You two've got them, too," he added, as Fred and George ambled in, still in their pyjamas._ "Oh, and you've got another letter, as well, Harry," Mrs Weasley said. "I've no idea who it's from, I don't recognise the handwriting. The owl's still outside, so it must be waiting for a reply." There was silence for the next few minutes, as they all read their Hogwarts letters, telling them to catch the Hogwarts Express as usual from King's Cross station on September the first. _There was also a list of the new books he'd need for the coming year._

Second year students will require:

 _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ by Miranda Goshawk

 _The Key of Solomon,_ by Solomon ben David

 _The Book of the Invisible Sun,_ by Francis, le Comte de Saint-Germain

 _The Codex Imperium,_ by Sir Clive Bentley

 _The Classic Manual of Combat,_ by Chojun Miyagi. This is a Muggle publication, and therefore not available at Flourish & Blotts.

Please note that there is an additional, optional subject being taught this year, available to second years and above: Dimensional Magic, also known as Sorcery. As this is a completely new subject, there is no O.W.L or N.E.W.T exam for it. If you wish to take this subject, please return the attached slip by no later than the 25th of August. Textbooks will be supplied free of charge, as no wizarding bookshop stocks them.

 _Fred, who had finished his own list, peered over at Harry's._ "You've been told to get the same new books as us!" he said. "The new DADA teacher must be a weird one to set books like those. What do you reckon we need a Muggle book for?" Harry shrugged. "Maybe," he said slowly, "it's so we can defend ourselves with Muggle methods? I mean, if someone attacks you, and you can't use magic outside school, or if there's Muggles that'll see you do magic, what are you going to do?" The Weasleys considered this. "Punch them on the nose," said George "and then do a runner." finished Fred. "Or do magic, and then make any Muggles that saw you forget it, and then say it was self-defence when they ask why you jinxed someone outside school." suggested Ron.

"Alright, boys, that's enough," said Mr Weasley firmly. "You'll find out why you need a Muggle book when you get to school. And before you start, I don't know anything about Dimensional Magic. I've never heard of it." Fred, George and Ron grumbled, but stopped when they realised that Harry had another letter. "Go on, Harry, open it!" said Ron. "Alright," sighed Harry. "I was going to wait till I had some privacy, but you'll just pester me about it until I tell you what it is." Fred and George put on expressions of shock. "What, us, Gred? Annoy Harrykins until he tells us about his personal, private, personal correspondence?" "I'm as shocked as you Forge. No, we wouldn't do that. We'd just nick it and read it ourselves." "Anyway," said Harry, loudly, "here's what it says – "Dear Harry…"


	6. Chapter 6: The Doctor is Strange

**Chapter 6**

"… I regret that I have not written to you sooner, but I have had multiple significant issues that required my full attention in the last few weeks. As you know, when you collapsed following your fight with Professor Quirrell, I magically examined you, by accessing your memories, to determine why you showed physical evidence of prior starvation. While in your mind, however, I found something else that concerned me. Following a consultation with Professor Dumbledore regarding the night on which you were orphaned, I have determined that a piece of Voldemort's (here Harry said You-Know-Who to avoid unsettling the Weasleys) soul is parasitically attached to your own.

Professor Dumbledore is unable to remove it, and in fact confided in Professor McGonagall when he left you with the Dursleys that he would not even if he could, on the grounds that "scars can be useful". I, however, can remove the soul fragment, and will visit you to do so at your convenience. If you are unavailable before the 1st of September, I will do so on your return to Hogwarts, as I have accepted the position of Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. (I will also be teaching a new subject, and I look forward to seeing you in my classes.) I await your reply.

Yours sincerely,

Professor S. Strange, MD, Ph.D."

Harry looked up from the letter to see the Weasleys all stunned into silence and pale faced. They sat there speechless, digesting the fact that Harry had part of the soul of one of the most evil wizards ever living inside him, and that Dumbledore hadn't done anything about it. Eventually, Ron broke the silence. "MERLIN'S PANTS, HARRY! YOU-KNOW-WHO'S SOUL IS INSIDE YOU! GET IT OUT!" At this verbal explosion, the other Weasleys all jumped out of their skins, and Harry fell off his chair. Finding their voices, the Weasleys all made similar expressions of shock and urgency. Mr Weasley passed Harry a quill and a piece of parchment. Harry scribbled a quick reply, asking Professor Strange to come as soon as possible, and took it outside to the owl, who flew off with it.

The rest of the day was spent anxiously looking out of the windows, waiting to see if Professor Strange would show up. That afternoon, he did. Ginny was feeding the flock of fat brown chickens the Weasleys kept, when she suddenly ran inside, shouting. "Mum! A weird orange circle just appeared in the garden and now there's a man outside!"


	7. Chapter 7: Sorcerous Surgery

**Chapter 7**

Stephen watched the red-haired girl run inside the enormous, rickety house, affording himself a quick grin. She had obviously been aware of magic from a young age, living in a house that looked like it was about to collapse at any moment, so it was him that had provoked her response. Stephen walked up to the front door, with Harry's reply in his hand. He was just about to knock on the door when it opened, revealing a woman who was obviously the mother of this family. "Good afternoon, Mrs Weasley. I am Professor Strange, here about Harry's soul problem." Stephen noticed that Mrs Weasley had slightly relaxed when she heard his name. The entire household must have been waiting for him. "Come in, Professor," said Mrs Weasley. "Harry's in the living room."

Following Mrs Weasley through the house to his "patient", Stephen noticed that the house must have architectural magic built into its structure, much like the Sanctum, but on a much lower level of sophistication. Harry was waiting for him, with Mr Weasley, a pair of identical twins, and another boy that was evidently another Weasley. "So, we meet again, Mr Potter. I wish it were under better circumstances, but this procedure should be carried out as soon as possible." Mr Weasley asked, "What, exactly, are you going to do, Professor?" "It's very simple, and I shall require your assistance – specifically, to help by holding Harry's limbs down." "What?" gasped Harry. "Why do I need to be held down?" "Because," Stephen answered, "muscular spasms and seizures can occur during exorcisms, and if not restrained you could hurt yourself. If you were an adult, I would do it myself with a spell, but I can't in this case because of the risk of you breaking your bones."

"Now, if all the questions are out of the way, let's begin. Harry, if you would lie down on the settee, and if the rest of you would each take a limb, please." The Weasleys did as they asked, although Fred and George did wave Harry's arms around like he was a puppet for a minute or two. "Right, I need silence please, as I have to concentrate. And Weasleys – look only at the limb you are holding until I say otherwise. Now: By the Flawless Flames of the Faltine, that cleanse with heat and light, by the Roving Rings of Raggador, that bind with arcane might, by the Shining Shield of the Seraphim, which protects the human soul, this curse I now lift from you, let your spirit now be whole!" And with the completion of the spell, Harry's body began to seize and writhe. He rolled his head around, clenched his teeth, his hands clenched at nothing, and his legs tried to kick out. After a few minutes, Harry let out a scream of pure agony. Black smoke with green sparks in it burst from his scar, and formed a face Stephen had seen before. But the last time he'd seen it, it had been on the back of Professor Quirrell's head. The smoky head of Voldemort remained hovering in midair for what seemed like an eternity, before it burst into flames, and screamed as it was burnt up.

When all the smoke was gone, Harry stopped shaking. "You can let him go now. He needs rest," Stephen said to the Weasleys. I'll leave him a note though – and let him discover this on his own, don't tell him." Scribbling something on a scrap of parchment lying on the floor, Stephen left his message on the sideboard, where Harry would see it on waking up. Bidding the Weasleys farewell, Stephen enjoyed their expressions of amazement as he opened a sling portal and stepped through it to the Sanctum.

Turning to look at each other, Ron and the twins were all thinking the same thing – that this school year was DEFINITELY going to be interesting. A few hours later, Harry woke up with a splitting headache. Picking his glasses up from the floor, where they had evidently fallen in his sleep, he couldn't help but feel that something was different about him now. Trudging slowly to the mantelpiece, he read the note sat there. Doctor, no, Professor now, he reminded himself, Professor Strange must have left it for him, going by the handwriting that looked as if a spider with ink on its feet had tap danced across the parchment. It was only four words. "Look in a mirror." Walking to the kitchen, where the Weasleys were all eating sausage and mashed potatoes for tea, (Ginny put her elbow in her potatoes on seeing him) and then almost said something before a look from Mrs Weasley stopped her. Peering into the mirror above the mantelpiece, but not too closely, remembering the time it shouted at him, Harry jumped back and gasped in shock.

The lightning bolt scar, which had marked him since the murder of his parents, and had resulted in taunting nicknames like "Scarhead", was gone.


	8. Chapter 8: Bewildering Books

**Chapter 8**

A few days later, having received a letter from Hermione saying that she had bought Harry and Ron's copies of the Muggle book for them, Harry and the Weasleys went to Diagon Alley. "Hi Ron, hi Harry," called Hermione when she saw them walking out of Gringotts. "Over here!". Wandering over to the window of Flourish & Blotts, where Hermione had been practically salivating over the books on display, Harry gave Hermione a big shock. "Harry… your scar.. it's _gone_! What happened?!" "I'll tell you later Hermione, I promise. I'd prefer not to talk about it in public. Come on, let's get our books."

Entering the shop, the man at the counter looked at them, and sighed. "Come to get your new Defence books, haven't you?" Confused, they nodded. "Well, I wouldn't hold out much hope of you getting a good grade in the subject this year, unless the lunatic that set them knows a translation spell." Hermione looked terrified at the prospect of failing a subject, while Harry and Ron just became more confused. Eventually, Hermione managed to say "H-h-how could you say we're going to fail?" The shopkeeper sighed again. "Because, young lady, these are your books." Putting three stacks of thick, leather bound books on the counter, he started racking up the price. "And before you ask, no, I don't have any more hidden away. They sold out last week. That'll be 5 Galleons, 12 Sickles each, please."

Still having no idea what the shopkeeper was talking about, Harry took his set of books and opened the one on the top of the pile. Immediately, his confusion vanished, to replaced by an even bigger feeling of confusion. Their new books weren't written in English. It wasn't even a language that was written in the way English was. Ron was first to vent his emotions. "Bloody hell! On top of all the homework we're bound to get this year, we're going to have to learn another language before we can even do any of it!"

They still had more supplies to buy, so they left Flourish and Blotts just in time to see Malfoy with his father, blocking Mr Weasley and Ginny from entering the apothecary. Mr Malfoy was speaking to Mr Weasley, and from the expressions on their faces, it wasn't a pleasant conversation. After a minute more, the Malfoys left, leaving Mr Weasley cross and Ginny looking scared. Harry, Ron and Hermione ran over to them. Ron was just about to ask what had happened, when the air was filled with loud barking.

A dog had burst out of the apothecary doorway and was barking at Ginny. But not just any dog. Apparent by its greenish colour and transparency, it was a ghost dog!


	9. Chapter 9: Shopping, Interrupted

**Chapter 9**

The appearance of a ghostly dog was quite a shock. What was almost as shocking was when a bald Oriental man in green robes came out of the apothecary and starting scolding the dog, it spoke! "Bats!" said the man. "Stop that at once! The young lady is terrified of you! Stop it!" "There's something bad in the cauldron, Wong!" shouted the dog. "It smells of evil, death, and snakes! I need to kill it!" And with that, the dog started barking again.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood speechless. The ghost of a talking dog called Bats could smell something evil in Ginny's cauldron, which was full of her new, albeit secondhand, schoolbooks? And who was the man? Ginny was absolutely terrified, and Mr Weasley had drawn his wand and was pointing it at the phantasmal dog. The bald man, who Harry realised must be the "Wong" that the dog had referred to, tried to calm the situation. People were beginning to stare. Wong bent down to Ginny's eye level, and finally managed to get Bats to stop barking. "Young lady," he said in a soothing voice, "I realise this is quite upsetting for you, but could you please check your cauldron to see if there is anything in there that should not be?"

Ginny nodded shakily. Rummaging through the cauldron, she eventually pulled out a plain black diary. "I didn't buy this, Dad. I don't know where it came from." Mr Weasley took it from her and examined it. "There doesn't look to be anything dark about it Ginny. All the pages are completely blank. The only mark that it belongs to anyone is the name on the inside cover – T.M. Riddle, but…". The discussion was cut off at this point by Bats resuming his loud barking, jumping up at Mr Weasley, and trying to grab the offending article. Wong sighed, stopped Bats for the second time, and asked Mr Weasley "Sir, since we are beginning to attract attention, may I suggest we continue this elsewhere?"

Mr Weasley looked worried. "It'll be hard explaining this to Molly, but I suppose we had better, Mr Wong." Wong then reached into his pocket, and produced a large, two fingered ring, which he put on his left hand. Waving his right in a circle a few times, the sight of the glowing portal surprised all of them, even though with the exception of Hermione, they had all seen it before. "Er… Mr Wong?" asked Harry, "Do you know Professor Strange?" "You mean Stephen?" smiled Wong. "Yes, I know him very well. I work for him, actually. Housekeeper, valet, chef, kung-fu instructor… Many are the roles in which I serve the Sorcerer Supreme. Now, please, follow me."

Following Wong and Bats through the portal, the group found themselves in a grand entrance way. "Harry, we really must stop meeting like this before school has started," said a voice that was familiar to Harry and the three Weasleys. "Welcome to 177A Bleecker Street, Greenwich Village, New York. Or to give it its title, the Sanctum Sanctorum. But I think you would find it easiest to think of it as simply - my house."

Standing in front of them, was Doctor Strange.


	10. Chapter 10: Diary Destroyed

**Chapter 10**

Before Stephen could ask what the problem was, Bats provided the answer. "It's the diary, Doc. It's something bad. Smells awful, like snakes and death." Stephen sighed. "Mr Weasley, could I ask that you leave the diary with me? I'll need to examine it to find out exactly what it is, and that could take some time. Wong will see you back to…" "Diagon Alley," supplied Harry. Wong made a short bow. "Of course, Master." Taking the diary from Mr Weasley, Wong placed it on the edge of a small table on which was sat an ornate cauldron, then conjured a portal and guided the visitors through it.

Stephen then made an arcane gesture. The diary rose from the table, flew towards him and stopped six inches from his body. He took it up through the Sanctum up to the fourth floor (though from the outside the building only had three), and into what he thought of as the "isolation ward". Constructed of lead, cold iron and rowan wood, the room was decorated with every magical and religious symbol associated with binding and neutralising malevolent entities and/or objects. By the door, on the wall, where a light switch would be, was a tap. When Stephen turned it, a sprinkler system activated, spraying the walls and floor with not just water, but holy water. Pausing to use a fast-acting heating spell to dry the room after a minute or two, Stephen carefully deposited the diary in the centre of a very complex pentacle in the middle of the floor.

He then took a few minutes to collect his thoughts, relax his body, and calm his soul, before opening the Eye of Agamotto. Under its all-seeing gaze, the diary was held by a young man wearing black robes and a cruel expression on his face. The diary was dripping ink, and was almost pulsating, like it was a heart. Closing the Eye, Stephen knew exactly what this innocent looking diary was. It was another soul fragment of Voldemort. What concerned him was the possibility of there being more of them.

Composing a suitable invocation took a while, but eventually, the Sorcerer Supreme spoke. "By the Crimson Bands of Cytorrak, that hold their captive tight, by the Seven Suns of Cinnibus, that shine with endless light! By the Winds of great Watoomb, and the Twelve Moons of Munnopoor, this soul cage and all those like it, be destroyed and harm no more!" And with that, Stephen sagged to the floor and watched as the diary rose three feet into the air, and started bleeding ink….

-Scene change – Gaunt Cottage, Little Hangleton-

Beneath the floorboards of a tumbledown shack, a chipped black stone burst out of its setting in a gold ring with a sharp 'ping', the ring itself twisting into an amorphous lump…

-Scene change – the vault belonging to Bellatrix Lestrange, Gringotts Bank-

Alarms went off throughout the bank, alerting the goblins of a threat to the contents of a vault. When they eventually tracked it to the Lestrange vault, they opened it just in time to see a small gold cup melt into a puddle…

\- Scene change – Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London-

In a dusty cabinet in the drawing room of this rather filthy house, a large gold locket burst open and gave out a small cloud of black smoke, leaving broken glass behind….

-Scene change- The Room of Hidden Things, Hogwarts-

On top of the bust of an old man, an ornate silver diadem set with opals shattered into tiny pieces….

-Scene change- Somewhere in the world, an unknown location-

A large python contorted and spasmed in death throes before collapsing into a pile of dust…

-Scene change - Azkaban Prison-

Screams were not unusual in Azkaban. Screams of pain, from several separate cells, simultaneously, were. All those screaming were Death Eaters, watching as their Dark Marks burned and then faded to resemble tattoos done at least twenty years ago. They knew what this meant, and the screams of pain were soon replaced by ones of anguish. Their Lord and Master was gone forever.

-Scene change- Diagon Alley-

Striding down the Alley, Lucius Malfoy stiffened and then clenched at his left arm in agony, as his Dark Mark burned away. Though the pain seemed to subside after a minute or two, it then returned with a vengeance. Draco Malfoy could do nothing but look on in horror as his father fell to the ground. Swiftly Apparated to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies by his wife, the Healers on duty could do nothing for him. Lucius was pronounced dead twenty minutes later. After all, this was a _magical_ hospital – they had no idea how to treat afflictions that were only had by Muggles: heart attacks, for instance.


	11. Chapter 11: Malfoy's Misdeeds

**Chapter 11: Malfoy's Misdeeds**

The next day, Lucius Malfoy's collapse in the Alley was on the front page of the Daily Prophet. The funeral was a private affair. Aside from his wife and son, the only people in attendance were a team from the DMLE, who per the law, had to search the Manor and grounds for anything Dark or dangerous before the will reading in 30 days time. They had a field day. The search yielded a number of cursed objects, a supply of illegal potions and the ingredients for them, and hidden in the cellar, a small vault full of money, undeclared in the Malfoy financial records.

The whole lot was seized. But the icing on the cake was the contents of a safe hidden in Lucius' study behind magical and mundane protections. In it, there was a ledger, a box of receipts, and a single sheet of parchment with names on it. The DMLE team were ecstatic. If Voldemort had known Lucius had the ledger, he would have been killed for his foolishness. The ledger contained records of each and every illegal act a Death Eater had committed, some of which they had not been convicted of. The receipts were for everything a Death Eater had ever purchased from Borgin & Burkes. The list, though, was the best find. It named them. All of them.

Within the space of a week, Aurors tracked down and arrested every witch or wizard on the list that wasn't believed dead or already in Azkaban. Because of the ledger, the trials were swift. Not one was longer than two hours. Some of the Death Eaters already in Azkaban not under life imprisonment found their sentences adjusted as they were moved to the "lifers" wing of the prison. Some whose crimes now warranted the Dementor's Kiss were subjected to that final and absolute punishment. Among them was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Mr Borgin found his shop raided and himself arrested. He was convicted of purchasing Dark artefacts, selling Dark artefacts, supplying Dark artefacts to criminals, and 278 counts of falsifying inventory records. He was sentenced to 75 years in the minimum security wing of Azkaban. Due to his age, it was expected he would die there.

In the Weasley household, these events were discussed every day when the morning and evening editions of the Prophet arrived. For some reason, Scabbers was disturbed by the announcements in the paper. On a late Thursday night, in the last week of August, Scabbers made his move. Scurrying through Ron's open window, he slowly made his way to the ground by climbing down the roof of one floor of the house to the one below.

Eventually, running to the property line, the believed-to-be-dead coward Peter Pettigrew, known for the last twelve or so years as Scabbers the rat, starting making a plan for getting out of Britain in his tiny mind. He was dead before he knew it.

The more practiced an Animagus is in living as an animal, the better they are at it. Their instincts adapt, and they become truly strong among true animals: an animal with a human's intelligence. The danger however, is that the longer an Animagus spends as an animal without turning back into their human form, the harder it is to do so. Peter Pettigrew had spent at least twenty years without transforming. He couldn't have done it without someone casting the Homorphous Charm on him. He was excellent at being a rat. Unfortunately, his human fear and worry overpowered his rat instincts. As such, as he dashed across the Weasleys' garden, he forgot the existence of potential predators. That night, Hermes, Percy Weasley's owl, fed well – on a large, brown, rat.

In the morning, Percy discovered the bottom of Hermes' cage strewn with fur and pellets. The argument between Ron and Percy over who was to blame for Scabbers' death threatened to last the whole of breakfast until Mrs Weasley put a stop to it.


	12. Chapter 12: Train Talk

**Chapter 12: Train Talk**

On September 1st, Harry and the Weasleys went to Platform 9 ¾ to get on the Hogwarts Express. Hermione was waiting for them with her parents. Ginny was ecstatic that she finally got to board the train instead of just saying goodbye to her brothers. After hugs from Mrs Weasley, they all found a compartment, with the exceptions of Fred and George, who had gone to find Lee Jordan.

After introducing Hermione and Ginny to each other, the conversation quickly turned to Malfoy. "I didn't see Malfoy anywhere on the platform," said Hermione, "but I suppose he could have been on the train already." Ron, with an expression of hope on his face, suggested "Maybe he won't be here this year, what with his dad dying suddenly like that. Maybe he's being taught at home." Harry, Ginny and Hermione now had similar faces to Ron's. While Ginny had never met Draco Malfoy, she had seen him in Diagon Alley and had heard enough about him from Ron and Harry over the summer to know that he was not a pleasant person unless you were rich, a Slytherin, and from a family with no Muggleborns in it. What had made him worse was that Lucius Malfoy had been on the Hogwarts board of governors until his sudden demise, and Draco was often heard to say "My father will hear about this!" as a retort or threat toward something he didn't like.

The next topic was obvious – the new teacher. Hermione spent at least fifteen minutes firing questions at Harry and Ron. They answered them patiently. "Yes, Hermione, my scar's really gone. Doctor – no, wait, he's a teacher now – Professor Strange got rid of it. Somehow, because my mum sacrificed herself for me, when You-Know-Who tried to kill me, his spell backfired and, I don't know, he damaged his soul or something and he left part of it behind, in me, in my scar. So when Professor Strange got the bit of soul out, he got rid of the scar too."

"No, Hermione, we don't know how he has a ghost dog." "No Hermione, I don't know how he made that portal thing, except it was magic."

"Yes Hermione, of course we signed up for Dimensional Magic. We know you wouldn't let it go if we didn't."

By the time Hermione was satisfied with the answers to all her questions, they had been travelling for so long they were halfway to Hogwarts. They spent the rest of the journey playing Exploding Snap.


	13. Chapter 13: The Welcoming Feast

**Chapter 13: The Welcoming Feast**

When the Hogwarts Express arrived at Hogsmeade station, Hagrid was there to take the first years across the lake in the boats. Everyone else went up to the school in carriages that appeared to move by themselves.

For the second year students, the Sorting was amusing to watch from the outside. You could tell who had older brothers or sisters, because they weren't as surprised by everything- the Great Hall ceiling, the hovering candles, or the Sorting Hat. The Sorting was, according to those who had seen more than one, about normal for length and the Hat's behaviour. The biggest exception to this was when it was Ginny's turn. As soon as the Hat was on her head it let out a great cheer. "The last Weasley! Finally! Like all the rest of them: GRYFFINDOR!"

Professor McGonagall vanished the stool the first years sat on for Sorting with a flick of her wand, and took the Hat away. Professor Dumbledore then stood up to speak. "Welcome, first years, and welcome, returning students. Now for some official announcements. The Forbidden Forest is still Forbidden, as should be evident by its name. Prohibited items will be confiscated on sight by prefects or teachers. A full list of them can be found on Mr Filch's office door. It is quite a read. Next, the subject of Defence Against the Dark Arts. This year, it will be taught jointly, by Professor Stephen Strange and Professor Wong." The heads of the entire student body turned to look at the new teachers, who both stood up when their names were given. "Finally," continued Dumbledore, "Professor Strange will also be teaching the new subject of Dimensional Magic. I now hand over to him to clarify a few details about it."

Polite applause filled the Hall briefly before Professor Strange rose from his seat again and cleared his throat. "This information concerns those who filled in the slip on their letters saying they would like to take my classes. To them, I give this warning: Dimensional Magic is dangerous. It has consequences, and it has side effects. In a couple of minutes, the feast will begin. Gradually, depending on how close you are to the staff table, you will notice an unpleasant smell. What you smell will be my meal. This is one of the side effects – after using Dimensional Magic for as long as I have, I am no longer able to eat normal food. It turns to ash in my mouth. Dimensional Magic, like all magic, has power. In the case of the magic you are used to, the power comes from you. With Dimensional Magic, it comes from other places, some of which are inhabited. When using power from these places, you incur a magical debt to the inhabitants."

Stephen waited a minute to let what he had said sink in before continuing. "Based on what I have said, if you no longer wish to take Dimensional Magic as a subject, please inform your Head of House." With that, he sat down, and the long tables became covered with plates of food. There were only two topics of conversation beyond pleasantries: What kind of subject was Dimensional Magic? And what exactly was Professor Strange eating? It stank of sulphur, rotten fish, and other unpleasant things. Students that watched him swore that he was eating something with lots of tentacles and eyes, and that it was still alive.


	14. Chapter 14: The First Defence Lesson

**Chapter 14: The First Defence Lesson**

At breakfast the next morning, everyone received their timetables from Professor McGonagall. For the Gryffindor second years, there was good news and bad news. The bad was that they still had DADA with the Slytherins. The good, though, was that DADA was their first lesson, so they wouldn't have to wait to see Professor Strange's teaching methods.

After almost dragging Ron away from his third helping of bacon and eggs, the Trio climbed the stairs to the fifth floor, where the Defence classroom was. When they got there, several of their classmates were already there, stuck outside the door. "It won't open, mate," said Dean Thomas when Harry tried the handle. "It must be stuck or something." "Professor Strange is in there, though?" asked Hermione. "Heard him," replied Seamus Finnegan, in his soft Irish accent. "There's been a lot of scrapin' noises in there fer about ten minutes. He's probably movin' the desks around or somethin'."

That moment, the door opened, and Professor Strange was looking at them sternly, but with a faint smile, as if he'd been standing there listen to them wonder why they couldn't get in. "Find a desk, have your books and wands out in front of you. I'll answer the question when you're all sat down."

Puzzled because no-one had yet asked a question, the second year Lions and Snakes were stunned into silence on seeing what their new teacher had done to the classroom. It was now almost the size of the Great Hall in width and length. Half the room had a padded floor, with a row of cubicles along the wall. The other half was full of desks, but for some reason they were extremely spaced apart, almost like they would be for an exam. Each desk was sat in the middle of a circle of runes chalked on the floor.

When they'd all sat down at a desk, congregating in their Houses, Professor Strange took the register and then began the lesson. "So we can get it out of the way – yes, I have made the room bigger. No, I will not teach you how to do it. The other half of the room will be used when Professor Wong teaches you. Now – how many of you managed to get the textbooks in English?"

Looking around, Harry saw that only a quarter of the class raised their hand. Professor Strange sighed, and muttered something under his breath. "Right. All those who didn't manage to get them in English, please stay for a minute at the end of class. Now. The lesson. The ability to defend yourself is essential. You can do magic, yes, but so can those who would wish you harm. And the first lesson in defending yourself is this: You must be able to defend yourself at all times."

Seeing only confusion on the faces of his students, Stephen decided a practical example was needed. "Each of you hold up your wand. What is it?" "A tool, Sir." said Dean. "1 point to Gryffindor, Mr Thomas. "A channel for our magic, Professor", called Lavender Brown. "Another point to Gryffindor, Miss Brown.". Then came a sullen voice from the back of the room. "A weapon." "Three points to Slytherin, Mr Nott." Nott smirked, thinking he'd managed to get the correct answer. "However," continued Stephen, "none of you have given the answer I was looking for. Your wand is…" waving his hands, all the students gasped as their wands were jerked from their grips and suspended three feet above their heads, "your greatest weakness. Without a wand, and at your current level of knowledge, you cannot deliberately do magic. Without wands, you are defenceless. These lessons will correct that. Now, please open "The Key of Solomon" to page 17, headed "The Sands of Nisanti".

As the class turned to the page he'd asked, Stephen turned to the blackboard and chalked three words on it. "Those of you without the book in English, pay attention to the board. Your books will still have the diagrams, just not text you can read."

Looking at the illustration on the page, Harry had no clue what the spell did beyond create an hourglass out of thin air. He soon had an answer. "The Sands of Nisanti, when conjured correctly, prevent anyone within nine feet of the caster at the spell's completion from using magic for three minutes. The words of the spell must be pronounced correctly, and the somatic component: the gestures illustrated in front of you, must be perfomed at the same time as you speak the words: _Hestok vrk nakrin_! Pronunciation is thus: _hestok_ how it sounds, _vrk_ with a rolling r and guttural k, and _nakrin_ with emphasis on the n's and the k."

Stephen then returned the floating wands to their owners and walked down the room with a box of egg timers, placing one on each desk. "For the purposes of the lesson, your attempts at this spell are bound to the area of the circle around your desk. You will attempt to conjure the Sands. If you manage to conjure them fully, by which I mean a physical, tangible conjuring, turn the egg timer over and then cast Lumos. If your wand produces light, but does so before the egg timer runs out; pay attention Miss Parkinson, five points from Slytherin – the Sands did not last three minutes. Begin."

The remainder of the lesson was the most difficult thing the second-years had done in the time at Hogwarts till now. The words of the spell were difficult to pronounce, and the gestures moved their fingers in ways that made them ache. By the time Professor Strange called an end to the lesson, only a handful of students had managed to complete the spell.

The few students with their books in English packed up and left. Everyone else was left wondering what Professor Strange was going to do. Partway through the class, he had gone into his office and stayed in there for about half an hour. Purple light had flashed through the tiny window by the door, and when he emerged, he'd had a small box with him. Its contents had been a point of curiosity.

Opening it, Professor Strange gave each of them still in the room an oval purple crystal, about the size of their palm. "This is a translation crystal. If you read your books through it, the text will appear to be in English. Do NOT lose it. I will not be replacing it. The exception will be if you believe it to have been stolen from you. Class dismissed."


	15. Chapter 15: Strange vs Snape Part 1

**Chapter 15: Strange vs Snape Part 1**

The rest of the first few days of term passed without serious incident. The only blight on them was Potions. Professor Snape seemed to be worse than last year, docking points from Gryffindors for "breathing too loudly", "hesitating before answering a question", "asking a question", and even "being cross about having points taken away."

Unknown to him, Stephen was watching Snape's "teaching" methods from the Astral Dimension. Stephen's astral body flew around the dungeon classroom, mentally recording every fault he found. Students not wearing the basic safety equipment of goggles and lab coats. Girls do not have hair tied back. Teacher shows favouritism to certain students. Containers of biological potion ingredients not labelled with expiration dates or stored safely. No measuring equipment for liquids or temperatures. Potion recipes give instructions that are dependent on the colour of the potion. Had wizards never heard of colour blindness? And to top it off, the room had no ventilation.

Stephen had seen enough. His astral form flew invisibly through the castle. He had seen multiple ghosts, and did not want anyone to think that he had died suddenly and then carried on as normal, like Professor Binns. Returning to his body, which was sat in a comfortable wingback chair in his office, Stephen started writing a letter. An hour later, he had finished, and sent copies to the Daily Prophet and the Ministry of Magic.

The next day, the Daily Prophet bore the headline PARENTS AND MINISTRY CALL FOR SACKING OF SEVERUS SNAPE. MINISTRY TO ESTABLISH EDUCATIONAL STANDARDS OFFICE. The article was devoured by all, though the Slytherins were angry at what it said:

 _Yesterday afternoon, the Prophet and the Ministry received a letter from Professor Stephen Strange, the new DADA teacher at Hogwarts School. The staff member had secretly observed Professor Snape's class and had noted a number of causes for concern. The letter was circulated amongst Ministry officials, and was printed in yesterday's evening edition of this paper. Following its publication, the Prophet has received no less than 317 responses calling for Professor Snape's dismissal, which we have forwarded to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Albus Dumbledore._

 _The letter is printed below, in its entirety._

" _To whom it may concern,_

 _Following hearing students complain about Professor Severus Snape in conversation, I took it upon myself to secretly observe his class to verify whether these complaints were valid. What I saw shocked me. Professor Snape showers blatant favouritism upon students in his own House (Slytherin), and he appears to have the concept of safety missing from his mind. Potions is taught in an unventilated classroom. If a student's mistake caused toxic fumes to form, there would be at least one death or hospitalisation. Students do not wear safety glasses or protective clothing. Potions are to be drunk on completion, not potentially splashed into the eyes or onto the skin before then. Such incidents, if they occurred, could cause blindness. On the subject on blindness, the wizarding world in general appears to be unaware of the condition 'colour blindness'. A person with this condition cannot perceive certain colours correctly. In extreme cases, they cannot perceive any colours correctly. If a potion's recipe calls for something to be done until it turns red, for example, the colour blind brewer will most likely fail, because they perceive red as green (the most common form), or blue, or orange, or any other colour._

 _In addition, there was no evidence of any form of equipment for measuring out liquids, or for determining temperature, nor any attempt by the supposed teacher to explain how a potion works, or why it contains what it does. The Muggle equivalent of a potions class (chemistry) has all this. In fact, Muggle schoolchildren are not even permitted to do any practical chemistry work in a lesson until they are able to work out how they should do it, why they do it the way they do, and what is actually happening when they do it._

 _It is my opinion as a teacher that Snape – I will not give him the title of Professor any more until he is able to prove that he has the qualifications to hold it, should be sacked, and a replacement found who can implement the urgently needed standards of safety. Professor Dumbledore has previously gone on record stating that he trusts Severus Snape. This trust is evidently not in him being a good teacher. In the Muggle world, schools are regularly inspected to ensure that the staff are doing their jobs properly._

 _Just because Hogwarts is the only school of its kind in Britain should not prevent it from being inspected for quality by a governmental authority._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Professor Stephen Strange, MD, PhD, Sorcerer Supreme, Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher."_

 _Following the Ministry's receipt of the letter, Minister Fudge announced the formation of the Office for Inspecting and Determining Educational Achievement and Standards, or IDEAS. This body will institute into law regulations for teaching and student safety. As a starting point, they will use Muggle standards._

At the staff table, Snape looked like he was about to explode. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout were trying not to grin, while Dumbledore could not be seen at all. The reason was the small mountain of letters piled up in front of him. About every minute, another owl would deposit a letter, and the pile would shift slightly. The Weasley twins were taking bets on how long until it collapsed.

The betting pool was refunded in its entirety though, when Dumbledore simply waved his wand and had the post mountain zoom out of the Great Hall and up to his office.


	16. Chapter 16: Dimensional Magic

**Chapter 16: Dimensional Magic**

On Friday, after lunch, the second years who had signed up for it and hadn't been put off the warning at the Welcoming Feast had their first lesson in the mysterious new subject. Unusually, there were students from all four Houses. Professor Strange held the class in the Defence classroom, but all the desks and chairs had been moved to one side. Instead, they sat cross-legged on cushions on the floor.

"The universe in which we live," he began when they had settled down, "is but one of an infinite number. For the first few lessons, we shall be focusing on the Astral Dimension: An overlay of the physical world, where the soul can exist outside of the body, like so." Closing his physical eyes, Stephen projected his astral form and chuckled quietly at the class's communal gasp.

When he next spoke, his voice had a strange, almost echoic tone to it. "As an astral projection, you are for all intents and purposes a ghost. You cannot touch physical objects, you can fly, and if skilled enough you can become invisible. However, it has limitations. While projecting, your physical body is extremely vulnerable. Should your body be attacked and killed, you will cease to exist. If another projecting person attacks you while you are projecting, you can be killed. And finally, there is a time limit. Dependent on skill and power with Dimensional Magic, the maximum length of time you can project for without returning to your body is 24 hours."

Stephen then returned to his body "I have added wards to the castle that will prevent you from using your astral forms to enter dormitories and common rooms of a House not your own. You cannot, within your House, enter the dorm of the opposite sex, nor can you enter any bathrooms." A few students tried their hardest to stop dejected expressions forming on their faces at this information. "Now, the key to successful projection is to clear your mind and to visualise an origin point for your astral body..."

What followed was the most unusual lesson any of the class had experienced in their time at Hogwarts. Professor Strange gave them each a pendant necklace, with a simple steel ball about the size of a grape on it. When they wished to attempt astral projection, he explained, they should ensure first of all that they are positioned comfortably and somewhere they will not likely be disturbed, such as their dormitory. Then, they should close their eyes, calm their thoughts and take slow, deep breaths until they feel at complete peace. "Once you have managed to achieve this peaceful state, or "trance", you should focus your mind upon the pendant. Feel its weight against your body. Visualise in your mind looking down at it. Concentrate on it. Finally, shift your visualisation to the perspective of someone in front of you looking at it, and open your eyes."

Unsurprisingly, none of them managed it on the first attempt. Occasionally, someone would think they had managed it and open their eyes, only to sigh in disappointment.

By the end of the lesson, only three of them had managed it – Dean Thomas, Hannah Abbott, and Anthony Goldstein. They held a captive audience after Professor Strange dismissed them. "It felt weird – being completely weightless. You float almost without trying. I was almost worried about distance. Like, what happens if you go too far from your real body? " reported Hannah.

Anthony Goldstein thought projecting would be a useful skill to have for avoiding such people as Filch and bullies. "You want to go somewhere in the castle, but you want to avoid having to pass anywhere that morons like Crabbe & Goyle tend to be. So once you can do it quickly, you could pop into a broom cupboard or an empty classroom, project yourself, and float along the route you picked and see if it's clear of those people. If it is, pop back to reality and carry on. If it isn't, you can find another route."

Dean was deep in consultation with Ron, Seamus, Harry and Neville. "You still have clothes on, right? 'Cause you know that your actual body does, so you do. But I had that crystal he gave us in DADA in my pocket, so I had it in the projection, 'cause I knew it was there in my real pocket. And projections can fly, he said. So – what if you're holding a Quaffle when you project? What if projections can play Quidditch – without needing brooms?"

 **Author's Note:** Thanks to all those who've reviewed so far! If it seems like the past few chapters have been mainly focused on Stephen's perspective, that's because they have been. I've kind of written myself into a lack of plot for Harry's perspective, because the problems he faces in CoS aren't there now. I have a couple of ideas floating around in my head for future problems for Stephen, (a certain witch who makes the Spanish Inquisition sound pleasant by comparison may make an appearance and an old enemy with a predilection for pointy shoes may threaten the sanity of everyone at Hogwarts), but I have none for Harry. Suggestions welcome, and may end up being used!


	17. Chapter 17: Dudley's Redemption Part 1

A/N: A few readers (you know who you are) suggested this as a plot development. I suppose Dudley's punishment for contributing to the abuse of Harry should be lesser than that of his parents, so…

 **Chapter 17: Dudley's Redemption, Part 1**

Dudley Dursley was miserable. Once he had managed to get over the first couple of hours of shock and terror at being stuck in the Mirror Dimension, he had realised that he was effectively invisible. On the bright side, no one could see him, so he could do what he wanted, like spy on people. On the downside, he couldn't touch anything beyond floors and walls, so he couldn't eat.

To Dudley, the inability to stuff his face took priority over any potential for ogling. It had taken him a while, but he had worked out that since his cousin got to his freak school from London, there were probably freaks in London who would be able to see him. They might even help him.

Getting to London had been the easy part, by just getting on public transport. Not having to pay because nobody knew he was there had been a bonus. The hard part was finding someone who could help. When he did, Dudley's life went from bad to worse in his opinion. His hunger had overpowered him and he had found a bakery. Somehow, he had managed to pull a pie into the Mirror Dimension. Unfortunately for Dudley, a strangely dressed man in the bakery noticed the pie vanish. The man had done something with his hands, and then he was in front of Dudley and looking at him.

The man had taken Dudley to a weird building that looked like some kind of museum. There he had put Dudley in a small room with a bed, table and chair, and nothing else.

The man then walked through a pair of doors with a strange symbol on them. Then he was no longer in London. He walked through a courtyard filled with cherry blossom and to a large hall. There, he knelt before an old man in an ornate chair. "Master, I have found a boy who may have the talent. He was in the Mirror Dimension, and transferred a pie from the real world into the Mirror Dimension. What should I do with him?" The old man considered for a moment before replying. "First, we must determine the state of his soul, and how he came to be in the Mirror Dimension. Then, he must be tested to determine the extent of his power. Only once I am satisfied to these questions will I pronounce his fate. For now, bring him here, Daniel Drumm. Bring him to Kamar-Taj."


	18. Chapter 18: Sensei, not Professor

**Chapter 18: Sensei, not Professor**

The second, and subsequent even numbered weeks of term, Defence lessons were taught by Wong. He insisted on the title of Sensei, not Professor, and was a firm teacher. His lessons were why they needed the Muggle book by Chojun Miyagi. A few students, mostly Slytherins, scoffed at having to learn Muggle things. They were soon silenced in the very first class, when Sensei Wong broke a brick in half with his fist and then "roundhouse" kicked a rubber ball down the room so hard it flattened when it hit the wall.

The students found out what the side of the classroom with cubicles and a padded floor was intended for. At the beginning of the lesson, they would change in the cubicles into what he called _gi_ s and loose trousers. They would then practise _kata_ s, or forms, using the illustrations in Mr Miyagi's manual as a guide. When Sensei Wong was satisfied that a student was executing the forms, he would pair them off and have them spar for the remainder. Harry turned out to be rather good, as did Hermione to her surprise.

Every class he taught complained of aches in muscles they didn't know they had. Fred & George's opinion of the "kong-phooey" was that learning it hurt more than Oliver Wood's intense Quidditch practise regimens, and that it would only be useful till they could do magic outside school.

The complaints from wizarding pupils only stopped when a group of Muggleborn third years started telling stories of a man who had mastered kung-fu (as they were quick to correct) among other things, to such a degree, that he was the toughest man on Earth. These stories were things like "Once he was bitten by a cobra. After five days of agonizing pain, the cobra died." "When he does pushups, he doesn't push his body up, he pushes the Earth down." "He never has to start a fire. He just stares hard at wood and it bursts into flames." When the hearers of these stories asked where they could find this man, the response was always "You don't find Chuck Norris – he finds YOU."


	19. Chapter 19: Strange vs Snape Part 2

**Chapter 19: Strange vs. Snape Part 2**

Stephen's letter to the Ministry had infuriated Snape. As soon as he had finished breakfast the day it had been in the Prophet, he had started plotting his revenge. His knowledge of poisons and potions with unpleasant effects would not help him, as due to Strange having his own special food and drink, there was no way for him to spike anything. Nor would magic accomplish anything, as he was not confident he could defeat Strange in a duel. It would have to be purely physical means. Snape would have to get his hands dirty.

Then, late one night, when he was scheduled to patrol the corridors looking for students out of bed, Snape found the sharpest and largest knife in his classroom and slipped it into his robe. Skulking up through the castle, his robe flapping like the wings of some colossal bat, he made his way up to the fifth floor and to Strange's rooms.

A simple murmured "Alohomora" was enough to gain entrance. Snape tiptoed his way into the bedroom, where his adversary was sound asleep. Snape noticed that Strange's cloak, which he though of as ostentatious with its large and flared collar, was draped over a chair. Perhaps he would cut it to ribbons, as an extra act of vengeance. Crossing to stand next to the four poster bed, and raising the knife to strike, Snape never noticed the cloak rise from its place and silently glide over to him.

Before he realised what was happening, the cloak had wrapped itself around Snape's head and arms. His muffled shouts were enough to rouse Stephen, who gasped out a quick spell. "By the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak, be restrained!" Immediately, glowing scarlet bands appeared around Snape's limbs and attached themselves to the floor and ceiling, suspending him off the ground in an X. The Cloak untwined and hovered in midair, and contorted slightly, almost as if preening.

Wong then came in from the next room (he had refused his own accommodation, insisting that as he and his Master taught the same subject, they should share the post's perks.) and promptly started apologising. "Master, my deepest regrets. I should have been more alert to threats to you here. I will now, with your permission…" Stephen cut him off there. "You have nothing to apologise for, old friend. But if you would go and get Professor Dumbledore please, I will send another message to the Ministry of Magic. Attempting to kill another staff member is grounds for arrest, not just losing his job."

The next morning, the Prophet's front page article was headlined "SEVERUS SNAPE ATTEMPTS MURDER OF "WHISTLEBLOWING" PROFESSOR STRANGE!" The article detailed the attack, its outcome, and as much information released by the DMLE concerning the crime. What was known was that Snape was being held on charges of attempted murder and privacy intrusion, and that he had been summarily sacked from Hogwarts. As much as Dumbledore trusted him, he couldn't let Snape's actions go this time.


	20. Chapter 20: The Inspection

**Chapter 20: The Inspection**

On the first of October, the team from the new Ministerial IDEAS Office arrived. After exchanging pleasantries with Professor Dumbledore, they started their inspection. They spent a week at Hogwarts, observing lessons, recording interactions between staff and students, and conducting interviews of some students as well, from all four Houses and across the years. What these interviews were intended for was eventually worked out by a group of Ravenclaws, and it quickly spread. "Everyone who's been interviewed was brought up by Muggles, or at least one of their parents is a Muggle," said Parvati Patil (who had heard it from her sister Padma in Ravenclaw), one afternoon in the Gryffindor common room. "So they've been to Muggle school. The inspectors want to know how Muggle schools are different beyond the subjects, Quidditch, and the castle."

At that same moment, the head of the inspectors, a Mr Geoffrey Coombes, was making his report to Professor Dumbledore. "Our initial concerns are as follows, Albus. Beyond Severus Snape and his actions, Mr Filch should be given retirement immediately. Having a Squib responsible for cleaning in a castle full of people who _can_ do magic, especially when you have dozens of house elves, is not only a drain on your budget, it is impractical. Likewise, Professor Binns should be helped to pass on from ghosthood, or failing that, given retirement. The poltergeist Peeves must be exorcised, and frankly should have been as soon as he appeared."

"All students should be given the choice to use pen and paper to write with if they wish. Hogwarts admits students at age eleven, yet before they can do a single piece of homework or write notes during a lesson, a significant number of them have to learn to write using something that Muggles haven't used for centuries! And parchment? How do you think the Muggleborns would react if they learned what parchment is made from? And don't get me started on being left handed! The number of interviewees that complained of ink stains, spills, having to ensure that the ink dried before they carried on writing, et cetera, was astonishing."

Dumbledore wasn't surprised. He had been expecting something like this. But Mr Coombes wasn't finished. "The House Points system, as it stands, is to be abolished. The House that has the most points at the end of the school year wins the Cup. And what happens? The Cup sits in the Head of House's office for the next year. Do the students get anything? Anything at all? No. They don't. Hogwarts has a competition in which the winners get nothing except bragging rights. All for the sake of encouraging good behaviour and answering questions in class. So either it changes to provide physical or otherwise tangible reward to the students, or it goes completely. Your decision."

"Next, the castle itself. The stairs in the Grand Staircase must stop moving. The trick steps must be fixed. And all the disused classrooms must be renovated. I don't know how long they've been like that, but going from the size of the dormitories, the student body has always been the same size, so a lot more classes used to be taught."

Dumbledore was about to protest at this point, and was planning to say that the budget wouldn't stretch to that, but Mr Coombes was ready for him. "Are you a wizard or not, Albus? Do you or do you not have several dozen house elves working here? The problems with the castle don't need money, just magic and some hard work."

"And finally, teaching. Potions, Muggle Studies and History of Magic need serious overhauls. Our concerns about Potions are identical to those of Professor Strange. The subject matter of Muggle Studies is about a century out of date. We suggest that Professor Burbage spend some time in the Muggle world. Perhaps this could become part of the subject, or even an extracurricular course. Further, it is to become a compulsory subject. We cannot go on raising new generations of witches and wizards who are ignorant and fearful of Muggles. Mr Potter mentioned during his interview that during his stay with the Weasleys over the summer, Arthur Weasley had appeared to be oblivious as to what a rubber duck was, and the man is head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office!

As regards History of Magic, Professor Binns needs to go, and be replaced with someone who isn't solely fixated on the Goblin Wars. You have three months. If by the beginning of January, we're not satisfied with the changes, we'll start making them ourselves."

And with that, Mr Coombes swept out of Dumbledore's office, leaving the Headmaster to think.


	21. Chapter 21: The Beginnings of Change

**Chapter 21: The Beginnings of Change**

The next day, Harry went down to the Great Hall for breakfast, the same as he and everyone else did every morning. But this morning, he stopped in surprise as soon as he entered the Hall, as did everyone else. The four giant hourglasses full of gems, that represented the House Point totals, were gone. Sitting in his usual place, he asked Ron what was going on.

"Dunno, Harry," was Ron's reply. "I'm as surprised as you." "Professor Dumbledore'll explain it," said Neville, swallowing a mouthful of toast. "Look, there he is." Professor Dumbledore had indeed entered the Hall and was walking towards the eagle sculpted lectern in front of the staff table. When Dumbledore reached it, he shot a ball of orange light from his wand accompanied by the sound of a trumpet, and began to speak. "Your attention, please. It has by no doubt escaped your attention that the House Point hourglasses are missing from this room. This is one of the results of the first inspection by Mr Coombes and his colleagues from the IDEAS Office. They observed that since winning the House Cup only confers a trophy which sits in the office of the Head of the winning House, and no benefits or rewards to the students of the House, change is needed to rectify that."

"Therefore, until such time as a suitable replacement system is devised by the staff, no House Points will be awarded or taken away. Detentions will still be given for rule-breaking. In addition, as you have no doubt seen in the Daily Prophet, Professor Snape has been fired and arrested. Until such time as his replacement is appointed, Potions lessons are cancelled. Mr Filch –" At this point, Dumbledore was drowned by cheers. It took a few minutes to restore order. "Settle down now, settle down please. As I was about to say, Mr Filch and Professor Binns are also leaving us today, for retirement. Professor Binns is currently being helped to move on. Thank you."

Dumbledore then sat down to eat his own breakfast, leading to the Hall being filled with conversation, punctuated by exclamations of joy when someone else entered and was told of the news.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22: Two Replacements, Retirements, and an Imprisonment**

Meanwhile, Mr Filch had quietly cleaned and tidied his small office, put Mrs Norris in a travelling cage, and left Hogwarts without saying goodbye to anyone. The only thing he left behind was the collection of confiscated items.

Professor Binns, however, was far more recalcitrant about his retirement. It turned out that what most people said about him was true – he was unaware of the fact that he was dead. All the standard methods of helping a ghost pass on required the ghost in question to acknowledge their ghosthood. Salting and burning Binns' physical remains or simple banishment were out, because he was not malevolent.

The only option left was Material Tethering – using magic to create a link between the ghost and an object they were deeply associated with in life. For Binns, this was his favourite book on the various Goblin Wars and Rebellions. It took a while, but the witch from the Spirit Division of the Department for the Regulation & Control of Magical Creatures that had come to Hogwarts for this purpose (courtesy of the IDEAS Office), eventually bound Binns to the book, which she then placed in an iron case. It would spend the rest of time on a shelf in the Division office.

The replacements for Binns and Snape were in place within a fortnight. Professor Jessica Sullivan was a young witch with piercing green eyes, long red hair, and a soft Irish accent. Seamus Finnegan developed a crush on her with five minutes of her first History of Magic class. She took them right back to the beginnings of magical history, covering the conflict between Merlin and Morgana and the persecution of witches and wizards in general by Uther Pendragon.

Snape's successor was Magnus Heyerdahl, a bald, tall wizard of Scandinavian ancestry with grey eyes. Potions was no longer taught in the dungeons, but in a large marquee outside. Professor Heyerdahl explained that "Until a safe classroom for brewing is built, the safest classroom is outside. Easy to get fresh air outside." He earned the respect of the Gryffindors by having the Slytherins work at the other end of the marquee. No longer would Malfoy's minions sabotage their work.

As for Peeves, he was troublesome to contain, being a poltergeist. Not being the spirit of a deceased person, he had no physical remains to destroy. Nor could he be simply banished from the castle. As an anthropomorphic personification of teenage mischief and rebellion, he would be replaced by another poltergeist within a week. It took a while, but with the assistance of the Bloody Baron, Peeves was lured into and then imprisoned in a jar of iron filings with a Perpetual Confinement spell put on it by Professor Strange.


	23. Chapter 23: Malfoy's Return

**Chapter 23: Malfoy's Return**

Harry had enjoyed his second year at Hogwarts so far. Snape was gone, and Voldemort would not trouble him again thanks to Professor Strange. The Slytherins seemed to be ignoring him without Malfoy leading them and Snape to defend them. Professor Heyerdahl had gathered information from the other three Houses about things his Snakes had got away with under his predecessor, and retroactively given fitting punishments to the perpetrators. There was hardly a Slytherin who didn't have at least one detention during the rest of October.

But this ideal state of affairs was not to last. At the Halloween feast, when all the students were seated and filling their plates, the doors of the Great Hall opened to reveal Malfoy and Professor McGonagall. Everyone turned to look at them. Malfoy looked worried. The reason was made clear as they walked down the Hall – McGonagall was holding the Sorting Hat. This caused extreme speculation all the way along the tables. "Malfoy's going to be Sorted again?" "But he was Sorted last year!" "Does he look scared to you?"

Eventually, the discussions and speculation grew so loud that Professor Dumbledore had to call for silence. "For reasons I will not go into, but should be evident to any of a deductive mind who kept up with the Daily Prophet just before the beginning of the school year, Mr Malfoy has been absent from us until now. For reasons of his own, Mr Malfoy requested that he be Sorted again on his return to Hogwarts. Thank you."

To that end, Professor McGonagall conjured a stool for Malfoy to sit on, and placed the battered old Sorting Hat on his head. "Hmm… Unusual," said the Hat. "Can't put you back where you were, that's for certain. A certain loyalty, but only as it benefits you, so not Hufflepuff for you. Intellect, yes, and a desire to learn, certainly, but for power and not learning for its own sake, which is far more Slytherin than Ravenclaw, and you can't go back, only forward. But as for the bravery and daring to ask for this, must be .. GRYFFINDOR!"

At the Hat's pronouncement, the Hall was filled with cries of shock and outrage from the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. A few Gryffindors, led by Fred and George, pretended to faint, while some of the second years who knew what Malfoy was like, started to chant "We don't want him, we won't take him!" Eventually, Professor McGonagall lost her temper. With a murmered "Sonorus" pointed at her throat, she shouted "That is ENOUGH!" The combined effect of her raised voice and its magically increased volume caused silence and several people to clap their hands over their ears.

"Mr Malfoy is now a Gryffindor. Despite what you may feel about this and about him, you have no say in the matter. I told each and every one of you before you were Sorted that your House will be like your family. To my House, I say this. Mr Malfoy is now in your family. Act like it, or there will be consequences."

The rest of the feast passed reasonably quietly. Malfoy sat at the Gryffindor table, but he spoke to nobody, and nobody spoke to him. When the feast was over, he followed his new housemates up to the dormitory, and went straight to bed. Just because he was now one of the Lions didn't mean he had to like them, after all. Little did he know of the changes that would come about in his life from now on.

A/N: Please review! Depending on feedback and interest, Draco might get his own story. Working title for if/when I write it : "The Snake becomes a Lion".


	24. Chapter 24: The First Night of Fear

**Chapter 24: The First Night of Fear**

That night, no one in Gryffindor Tower slept well. Harry woke from a bad dream in which he was being strangled by Devil's Snare to hear the sounds of nightmares from his dorm mates. Ron was whimpering "Not spiders! Not spiders!" while Neville, Seamus and Dean alternated randomly between trying to run, yelling in fear and curling into a ball. The worst affected though, was Malfoy. Harry and the others had been cross that Malfoy had been put with them following his House transfer, but it was surprising to see the normally proud and boastful boy cower in bed with his hands raised protectively in front of his face and plead for mercy from his father.

The next morning on the way down to the Great Hall, Hermione reported to Harry and Ron that no-one in her dormitory had got a peaceful night's sleep either. "Parvati fell out of bed at least three times, Lavender was crying for about an hour, Sally-Anne Perks and Lily Moon somehow had the same nightmare, and my dreams…" Ron raised his eyebrows questioningly. "What about your dreams, Hermione?" "They… weren't pleasant, Ronald. I don't want to talk about them. It's bad enough that I can remember them."

At breakfast, it seemed that everyone was bleary eyed and exhausted. Throughout the day, students and teachers alike nodded off out of sheer tiredness. Half the Hufflepuff Quidditch team ended up in the hospital wing after they fell asleep during practice and dropped off their brooms to the ground. In the middle of Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall turned into a cat and had a nap on top of her desk. It was only thanks to the second years' own fatigue that they didn't notice and carried on trying to turn pebbles into grapes.

The final class of the day was Dimensional Magic. Professor Strange had noticed the sleepiness pervading the castle throughout his Defence lessons, and had altered the topic accordingly. "I had intended us to carry on with Astral Projection, but seeing as you are all needing a good night's sleep, today we will learn how to cast the Mists of Morpheus. Morpheus, sometimes known as Hypnos, is the ancient Greek god of dreams and sleep. The Mists enable a night of peaceful sleep." Hermione had raised her hand at this. "Yes, Miss Granger?" "Professor, doesn't the Dreamless Sleep potion accomplish the same thing?" "Indeed it does, but what if you have none of the potion available, nor the time or ingredients to brew it?"

"A further advantage of the Mists is that they prevent one of my enemies from accessing your mind." At this, Professor Strange conjured an image of a man in tight green robes and pointy shoes, with chalk white skin, glowing yellow eyes and short black hair that stood out perfectly straight from his head. "Nightmare is the ruler of the Dream Dimension, which is created from the minds of the sleeping. He is able to visit nightmares upon an individual, and can create within the Dream Dimension anything that any sleeping person happens to be dreaming of, unless that individual is under the effect of the Mists."

The entire class was now terrified of going to bed, so Professor Strange quickly moved on to the practical part of the lesson. "To summon the Mists requires a chanted invocation of two of the Principalities; Munnopoor and Ikonn. We shall cover them and the other Principalities at another time, but there is one essential thing you must remember about chanted invocation spells: they must, and I mean must, rhyme. The length and meter are unimportant, but they must always rhyme."

Professor Strange then crossed the room to the blackboard and started writing. "The invocation for the Mists must reference the Mystic Mists of Munnoporr and the Shifting Sands of Ikonn, but the actual wording is up to you. Since you won't be needing to cast it until you go to bed, get your quills out and start composing your invocation. I'll put an example on the board for you."

The next 45 minutes were silent but for the sounds of quills scratching on parchment and the students muttering to themselves. With the exceptions of Harry, Hermione and a few others who had gone to Muggle primary school, none of them had written anything resembling poetry before. The example on the board was "By the Mystic Mists of Munnopoor, that drift with arcane power! By the Shifting Sands of Ikonn, that never cease to blind! I command thee in this hour, protect my sleeping mind!"


	25. Chapter 25: The Second Night of Fear

A/N: 25 chapters! Hooray! And a significant chapter number deserves a longer chapter, so here it is!

 **Chapter 25: The Second Night of Fear**

That night, everyone who had chosen Dimensional Magic cast the Mists of Morpheus on themselves. Everyone else queued up in the Great Hall and was given a dose of Dreamless Sleep by Madam Pomfrey, while Professor Heyerdahl brewed some more in a cauldron that could have easily doubled as a tea urn. Eventually, all the staff and students went to bed hoping for a peaceful night's rest. All except for Professor Strange.

Stephen was preparing for a fight. The last time he encountered Nightmare, he had crafted a spell that transferred the nightmares of the approximate four billion people sleeping on Earth at the time to himself, and survived them. There had been clowns. Lots and lots of clowns. But even the collective fears of half the world's population paled in comparison to the being that could trap you inside your own subconscious, and have you not even realise it. Even for him, it had taken the assistance of Wong and his one-time librarian Zelma dreaming themselves into his nightmare and altering it by their presence.

It was clear to Stephen that going to the Dream Dimension would be extremely dangerous. He couldn't exactly just sling ring there, given his current location. Even if he left Hogwarts, there was a chance he wouldn't be coming back. So he had to level the playing field a bit, or tilt it in his favour. If he couldn't go to Nightmare, Nightmare would come to him. Stephen was out in the cold and dark, on the Hogwarts lawn. He was building a trap, layering spells on top of physical glyphs he'd etched into the soil with a shovel. Crimson Bands of Cyttorak? Check. Nirvalonic Sphere? Check. Mandala of Dimensional Anchoring? Check. Verbal trigger? Check.

After a further twenty-five minutes of preparation, he was ready. Now came the hard part. Opening a sling portal to the Dream Dimension, Stephen projected his astral self, but modified it with a Kaballic Golem spell. The lumps of soil he'd dug out flew together and formed into a copy of his physical body. His astral form settled into the golem and walked it through the portal.

In the Dream Dimension, it did not take a long time to find Nightmare. But then, a "long time" isn't really applicable to a dimension which doesn't experience linear time as the material world does. Nightmare was astride his black unicorn, and bore an expression of fury upon his face. "As usual, it appears you do have a death wish, Doctor. In every single encounter we have had, you have employed trickery to escape my vengeance for intruding upon my realm. But this ends now. I have grown tired of pursuing you. Now, I simply wish you dead."

Stephen had been expecting this. "Never have I intruded upon your realm, Nightmare, save when it had been necessary to aid another. But I agree, our long standing conflict must come to an end. Therefore, I suggest we fight for the right of continued existence. However, you have thrown the first punch by attacking those I have a duty of care to. Or do you expect me to believe that four hundred children all had bad dreams on the same night, in the same location, by sheer coincidence?"

Stephen had been counting on his response to drive Nightmare over the edge, and from the foam frothing at his mouth, it appeared he had succeded. "Enough talk! This ends now, Doctor Strange!" Forming a wicked lance from the air, Nightmare spurred his steed into a charge. Stephen had planned for this - Nightmare's anger was clouding his perceptions: he had not noticed that Stephen was not truthfully physically in front of him. Assisted by the Cloak of Levitation, Stephen's golem flew back towards the sling portal. Glancing back occasionally, he saw that Nightmare was following him as per the plan.

On reaching the portal, the golem passed through it and Stephen vacated the golem in the middle of the trap, reverting it to a pile of soil. Now back in his true body, he was ready when Nightmare emerged from the portal, and he then spoke two words. "Night, night." Immediately, the portal snapped shut, and the dozens of spells Stephen had prepared activated, holding Nightmare in midair, his steed having disappeared.

Nightmare screamed in rage and frustration, but Stephen was having none of it. "Every time we've fought, Nighty, you've had the home field advantage. But no more. No dreams for you to access here, on my turf. Welcome to a dimension with linear time. Now you're going to get tired. Now you'll sleep. Now you'll have the nightmares. I wonder, what you'll dream about? Oh, that's right. ME. I'm Stephen Strange. I'm the Sorcerer Supreme. I'm your worst nightmare." Stephen treated Nightmare to the grin of one who knows his prisoner is utterly terrified of him, before whispering "Sweet dreams."

Nightmare's screams grew in volume and intensity, but eventually dwindled to nothing, as the last spell in the trap worked its effect on him. His body disintegrated into motes of dust, which merged with the pile of soil while keeping his mind intact. When Stephen was sure that the spell had finished, he picked up the shovel and transferred the dirt into a large jar. He then sealed the lid and cast a number of protective spells on the jar to prevent it breaking or being opened, and walked back into the castle singing a strange little song he'd heard in one of his rare glimpses of the future: "I've got a jar of dirt, I've got a jar of dirt, I've got a jar of dirt, and guess what's inside it!"

A/N 2: Thanks to all those lovely people who've suggested plot ideas! Now, I need your assistance again. Obviously, Sirius is going to get out of Azkaban at some point, but that will most likely be closer to a Hogwarts break. I plan for Stephen to be "tried" by the Wizengamot at some point as well, and a certain Mr Murdock will be involved.

A Mr Blaze might show up for a staring contest as well.

Now, what direction do you, my discerning readership, want me to take for the next few (or more!) chapters? Do you want me to:

Focus on Harry? Note: This will not involve him discovering the existence of girls. He's 12, he hasn't started thinking about that yet!

Focus on Dudley at Kamar-Taj?

Focus on Stephen?

Stop writing this story for a while and write "The Snake becomes a Lion", as I asked a couple of chapters ago?


	26. Chapter 26: Dudley's Redemption Part 2

A/N: We've not looked in on him in a while, so here's how Dudley's coping at Kamar-Taj…

 **Chapter 26: Dudley** **'s Redemption, Part 2**

In the month and a half since Master Drumm had brought him to Kamar-Taj, Dudley had changed so much that no-one who had known him in Little Whinging would have recognized him on first sight. Gone was the flab that was setting him on the path to the vast piggishness of his father. Gone was the low level intellect. Gone was the belief he had been brought up with that magical people were "freaks".

They had been replaced by a healthy waistline, a humble desire to learn, and a respect for those that were different or unusual. It had helped that Master Drumm had slapped down Dudley's initial hatred of "freaks" by coolly informing him that if it wasn't for "freaks", Dudley, his family, his friends, and everyone else in the world would either be dead or slaves of some malicious extra-dimensional entity such as Dormammu, Satannish or Shuma-Gorath.

In addition, during his initial "imprisonment" as Dudley had viewed it, he had knocked a book from a shelf he was supposed to be dusting. It had fallen open on a page describing the effects of the Crimson Gem of Cyttorak upon one Cain Marko. The picture next to the list showed a man with more muscles than a weightlifter holding a Challenger tank over his head. Being the kind of person he was, Dudley respected sheer physical strength. If "freakishness" could let you pick up and throw tanks like tennis balls, he wanted a piece of it.

But that was then, and this was now. Now Dudley trained with the other novices. The chores the old leader of this place he heard others call "The Ancient One" set him were hard, and repetitive, and the food was disgusting. Sometimes, Dudley could almost swear that some of it was still alive when he ate it. But when he first made sparks shoot out of his fingers and caught a falling vase with them, he suddenly remembered watching _The Karate Kid_ on television. He realised that the Ancient One had pulled a Mr Miyagi, conditioning him to use magic without actually teaching him, like Mr Miyagi had done to Daniel-san in the film. After finishing his chores, he had gone straight to Master Drumm and asked to be taught.

What happened next was unique to the novice and the Master that guided them through it, but amongst themselves, in a multitude of languages, the novices called it "The Tripping". For Dudley's Tripping, Master Drumm had taken him onto the streets of Kathmandu and asked him what he saw. "People. Shops. Stuff. Just life, really." Dudley had said. Master Drumm had smiled and replied "That's good, Dudley. Now close your eyes, and then concentrate on opening them … all three of them."

When Dudley opened his eyes, he almost fell over in shock. The "normal" world now appeared to be in monochrome, except for him, Master Drumm, and the.. the _things._ Large blue slugs crawled along pavements and up walls. Multicoloured fish swam through the air. The rows of Buddhist prayer wheels were glowing, and the glow intensified as passers-by spun them. Dudley turned a full circle on the spot, taking everything in and his mouth hanging open. Master Drumm was grinning at him. "Well done, Dudley Dursley. You have just taken the first step on your road to becoming a sorcerer. In time, you may become a true master - one of the Masters of the Mystic Arts."


	27. Chapter 27: A Home for Harry

**Chapter 27: A Home for Harry**

The November day that changed Harry's life started out like any other at Hogwarts, with no indication that anything unusual was going to happen. Ron was extremely reluctant to get out of his warm bed, but was eventually forced to by the simple expedient of a Hover Charm. A smart "Wingardium Leviosa!" from Harry, and the blankets on Ron's bed flew across the dormitory. "Alright, Harry, I'm getting up. Just don't tell Hermione, mate. She already nags us enough."

When the post arrived during breakfast, Harry received a note from Professor Strange. _Harry, please stay behind after Dimensional Magic this afternoon. I have obtained some information pertaining to your accommodation outside of school. S. Strange._ Pocketing it, Harry went with his friends to their first class of the day - Potions. Though they had it with the Slytherins, who treated them even worse now Malfoy was the enemy from their perspective, Professor Heyerdahl stood for no nonsense or bad behaviour, which made it bearable. The tent on the lawn had gone after three weeks of magical construction, and Potions was now held in a room that would not look much out of place in the chemistry department of a Muggle school.

Professor Heyerdahl was a much better teacher than Snape had ever been, though in Harry's opinion, it wasn't hard to be better at teaching than Snape. Before they started brewing, he would give the class a briefing on the potion they would be making, its effects on the drinker, and any hazards that could occur during the brewing if they did not follow the instructions properly. Usually the warnings meant they did not actually have accidents. Another difference from Snape's regime was that if their potion was graded as being fit for consumption, they actually got to keep it and drink it.

This morning, they were brewing Giddiness Draughts. _Magical Draughts and Potions_ described it in its completed state as "a fizzing black liquid with creamy-gold bubbles, that induces in the drinker a temporary increase in energy. However, fatigue returns on the potion wearing off, and an inability to concentrate while under its effects make Giddiness Draughts ineffective for fighting off sleep while doing anything which requires concentration. The effect of Giddiness Draught increases when drunk chilled and/or by young witches and wizards. WARNING: Overuse can lead to health problems. Interestingly, Muggles have developed their own versions of the Giddiness Draught, such as Coca-Cola and Pepsi."

Transfiguration had Professor McGonagall getting them to try and turn pebbles into glass beads. In Charms, they practiced getting candles to light and extinguish themselves. Unsurprisingly, Seamus Finnegan caused yet another one of his pyrotechnic accidents and melted his candle onto the floor. This led to Professor Flitiwck slipping on the waxy puddle when he gave Seamus two things: a new candle, and 500 lines to be completed in addition to his homework - "I am a wizard, not a fire-shooting monkey."

After lunch, the second years had History of Magic. No-one used it for napping now. Not only did Professor Sullivan's presence mean they couldn't, the fact that the subject was now actually _interesting_ kept them awake. Some lessons were lecture style, others were discussion based. Today, they were discussing the International Statute of Secrecy. "Given that actual witches and wizards could easily escape or defy the Muggle witch hunts, and that Muggles today are more likely to like magic instead of hate or fear it," began Professor Sullivan in her soft Irish voice that now had half the boys in the class (not just Seamus) crushing on her, "discuss the continued need for the Statute."

What followed was less a discussion and more an argument between those raised by Muggles and those not. Harry found himself on the fence, given his history with the Dursleys, who definitely hated magic. Eventually, Professor Sullivan called an end to the class and set homework "One and a half feet of parchment on your personal opinion of the Statute and backed up with solid historical fact, to be handed in next Tuesday."

The last class of the day was Dimensional Magic. This time, it was not a practical lesson. As he had mentioned the previous week, Professor Strange gave a lecture on the extra-dimensional Principalities and the Powers that ruled them. He also provided copies of a textbook - 'Otherworldy Realms and Their Inhabitants, by Rashid the Gatekeeper'.

When the rest of the class was dismissed, Harry stayed behind. "Your note said you knew something about my living arrangements, Professor?" "Yes, Harry. I have managed to extract from Professor Dumbledore the fact that you should not have gone to your aunt & uncle when you were a baby. Professor Dumbledore made the decision to send you there despite your parents' wills, on the reasoning that it was to protect you from fame and that they were and are your closest blood relatives." Professor Strange paused to give Harry some time to absorb this information before continuing. "If it were not for the fact that he was arrested a few hours after your parents were killed, you would have gone to someone else entirely." Harry was curious at this point. He didn't want to live with a criminal. "Who is it then Sir?" Then someone cleared their throat. Harry spun round to see a man in a grey suit, wearing round dark glasses. "His name is Sirius Black, Mr Potter." said the man. "He is your godfather. As for me, my name is Mr Murdock. I'm a lawyer. And I'm going to get your godfather out of prison. Because he's innocent."

 **A/N: Before anyone starts discussing the Statute of Secrecy, I will point out the following.**

 **In the Potterverse, actual witches and wizards would have only been burnt at the stake if they had been relieved of their wand and couldn't Apparate.**

 **Cameras. They can't hide behind Obliviations forever.**


	28. Chapter 28: The Trial of Sirius Black

**Extended Author** **'s Note**

OK, seems from the reviews that a few people have opinions on the International Statue of Secrecy, so here's my thoughts on it beyond a couple of sentences. Firstly, the students are discussing it in a historical context. At the period of history they are studying, the 1690s, guns took minutes to get ready to fire and were unreliable,because bullets as we know them did not exist. That's minutes to escape in, or turn round and turn the guns into sticks, or hex the Muggle witch hunters. Therefore, the greatest threat to actual witches and wizards of the Potterverse in that time period was not having their wand.

Secondly, in the modern Western world presented in the canon, nobody thinks witches and wizards actually exist. Therefore, no-one is looking for them. It is security cameras that pose the greatest risk of exposing the wizarding world. A Muggle with photos might be dismissed as crazy, or having faked the pictures, but security footage? Don't think so.

And finally, and this is addressed to anyone who might raise the subject of high tech modern guns: Guns such as full automatics, and sniper rifles that fire supersonic rounds and hit the target before they know they're being shot at, are generally referred to as MILITARY GRADE weapons. And therefore, ILLEGAL for civilians to have in the UK, where the story and the canon books are set. And if you try to get one, some police officers will come and give you a set of steel bracelets that you can't take off, otherwise known as handcuffs.

In addition, I will be writing "The Serpent becomes a Lion", the events that happen to Draco now he's a Gryffindor, at some point, but I want to get this story to a point where I can write them concurrently first.

Phew. Now, on with the story!

 **Chapter 28: The Trial of Sirius Black**

Harry was overwhelmed. He had a godfather? It was because of Dumbledore that he had gone to the Dursleys? His godfather was in prison, but innocent? He sank into a chair while Mr Murdock explained. "Twelve years ago, Harry, when your parents were murdered, your godfather knew that their friend Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them to Voldemort. He went after Pettigrew, and intended to kill him. Pettigrew escaped, though. He blew up a street, killing twelve people and then cut off a finger and turned into a rat, faking his death. Before he did that though, he loudly accused Sirius of betraying your parents. The witnesses reported that to the Aurors who turned up shortly after the crime, and combined with the deaths and explosion, that was enough for the Ministry to send him to Azkaban."

But Harry was still confused. "So if he didn't kill those people, why is he in Azkaban then?" Professor Strange gently cleared it up for him. "Sirius was arrested, Harry, and he was imprisoned. But he was never _tried and convicted._ Mr Murdock is going to get him that trial."

 **-Time and place skip - Courtroom 10 of the Wizengamot - the following weekend**

The week's session of the Wizengamot was about to close when Professor Dumbledore (acting as Chief Warlock) called "Any business from the public?" He knew there almost never was, but had to follow the procedure. Mr Murdock's voice called out from the public gallery. "I, Matthew Murdock, have business." "You have the floor, Mr Murdock," replied Dumbledore. Mr Murdock got down from his seat and walked to the centre of the chamber, where the large stone chair for the accused during trials was. "Chief Warlock, I am here to report a serious miscarriage of justice. Since the night of the 31st of October 1981 to the present, Sirius Orion Black has been imprisoned in Azkaban for the murder of a dozen Muggles and violating the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. However, he has never received a trial."

At this, the courtroom erupted with outrage. There were two factions - those who weren't involved in Sirius' arrest and those that were. Barty Crouch, head of the DMLE, and Minister Fudge were among the latter. It took several minutes for Dumbledore to restore order and then to collect his own thoughts. "Mr Murdock. Is Mr Black here and prepared to stand trial?" "He is, Chief Warlock. He also demands to be under the effects of Veritaserum during his trial.

Dumbledore gave assent, and the courtroom doors opened. Sirius was thin, haggard and tired. His hair was lank, and he had heavy stubble on his face. As he sat in the accused's seat, the chains on it snaked around his wrists and ankles. An Auror stepped forward and administered three drops of Veritaserum down Sirius' throat. A moment later, the questioning began.

"Are you Sirius Orion Black?" "Yes." "Are you proficient in Occlumency?" "No, but Barty Crouch and Minister Fudge believed me to be so when I was arrested." In their seats, Fudge and Crouch winced. They knew that this was not going to end well for them. "Are you a Death Eater?" "No." "Did you betray James and Lily Potter to the wizard known variously as Lord Voldemort, You-Know-Who, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" "No." "Who did?" "Peter Pettigrew." "Did you kill twelve Muggles by means of magically causing an explosion on the night of the 31st of October 1981?" "No." "Who did?" "Peter Pettigrew." "Explain your knowledge that it was Peter Pettigrew who performed the acts you have been questioned about." "I was not the Secret Keeper for James and Lily's house, Peter was. When I tracked him down and confronted him, he shouted that I had betrayed James and Lily. He then blew up the street, cut off one of his fingers, transformed into a rat, and went down a drain." "Is Peter Pettigrew still alive?" "I do not know."

Through the back and forth of the questioning the courtroom had been silent but for the voices of Dumbledore and Sirius. When the questions stopped, you could have heard a pin drop. Eventually, Dumbledore spoke again. "Mr Black, given your testimony under Veritaserum, you are hereby cleared of all charges by my authority as Chief Warlock. For your time in Azkaban, you will be recompensed with the sum of one hundred thousand Galleons. You are a free man, and may leave this chamber."

The chains released Sirius, and he got up from the stone seat. He conferred quietly with Mr Murdock, and then spoke. "I will not be leaving this chamber yet, Chief Warlock, as I have further business with persons present here." Fudge and Crouch winced again. "And that business is, Mr Black?" Sirius paused and grinned. There was something almost shark-like about it.

"I am bringing lawsuits, Chief Warlock, against the following: Bartemius Crouch Senior and Cornelius Fudge for unlawful arrest and unlawful imprisonment. I am also bringing three lawsuits, for child endangerment, child abuse by proxy, and wilful maladministration of a last will and testament..." here Sirius paused for dramatic effect, "against YOU, Chief Warlock. Specifically, for housing my godson, Harry James Potter, with Vernon and Petunia Dursley. When you housed him there, you left him as an infant on the doorstep in the middle of the night, where he could have frozen to death, housed him with people who treated him worse than a house elf, and ignored the statement in James and Lily's wills that Harry was never to go to the Dursleys under ANY circumstances. The three of you can expect to hear from my lawyers in the next few days. Now I'm leaving. I have a house to sort out, a godson to meet, and eleven years worth of birthday and Christmas presents to buy."

As the courtroom erupted with noise again, Sirius walked out. Life had been better since Matt started visiting him in Azkaban, and the help he talked about his friend Stephen would give him. Stephen was waiting for him, along with the person he wanted to see most in the world, and he felt tears fill his eyes. Despite all he wanted to say, he could only get two words out. "Hello, Pup."


	29. Chapter 29: Rebuilding a Family

**Chapter 29: Restarting a Family**

As Harry looked at Sirius, a faint and old memory resurfaced. _He was very young, before he was even at the Dursleys. He knew that because he could see two figures laughing as he rode around a room on a large black dog._ "I.. I remember you, " he said slowly. "At least, I think I do - did you have a dog when I was a baby?" Sirius' tears of joy turned to laughter. "Sort of, Pup. In some ways I still do." A flicker of concentration crossed his face, and then the dog from Harry's memory was standing in Sirius' place. It barked once, and then Sirius was back, laughing at Harry's surprise.

"I'm glad that's one thing you remember about me, Pup. There's so much I want to tell you about your mum and dad, but like I just told the old fogies in there, I need to go buy 11 years worth of birthday and Christmas presents for you, and get my.. No. Not 'my'. I need to get OUR house sorted out in time for Christmas. But, before I go… can… can I hug you?" Harry nodded and was surprised for the second time in as many minutes as he was Sirius immediately glommed onto him. When Harry was released from the hug, Sirius thanked Professor Strange and Mr Murdock, then said goodbye to Harry with another, shorter hug.

"I need to get you back to school now Harry," said Professor Strange. "I'll be around Matt. I've a feeling we'll both be needed to defend Sirius or ourselves pretty soon. You might want to check if Jennifer could run your office for a while." "Just as long as she doesn't get angry at the lowlife defendants in my prosecuting cases. I might be able to get away with it, but she won't."

After a farewell handshake, Stephen conjured a sling portal to his office at Hogwarts, and both he and Harry stepped through, knowing that wizarding Britain had no idea what was going to hit it. It was well past the time for updating the law as it stood to protecting children, and it looked like Sirius and Harry were going to be the leaders of the change. Dumbledore and the Wizengamot were not going to able to run things the way they wanted much longer. During Sirius' visits, he had learned of these Muggle things called "elections". It was time for a change in political leadership on a grand scale. Before Harry left Professor Strange's office, he turned to him and said "Professor? Thank you. Thank you for everything you've done for me. For my scar, the Dursleys, and now I have a proper family. Thank you." Stephen smiled at him, and replied "You're welcome, Harry."

 **A/N: Apologies for the delay in posting! I was briefly afflicted by a combination of writer's block for this story and inspiration for something else I'm working on.**


	30. Chapter 30: Dumbledore's Downfall

**Chapter 30: Dumbledore** **'s Downfall**

The next morning at breakfast, the Daily Prophet's headline was "Boy-Who-Lived Housed With Abusive Muggles: Dumbledore Responsible". The article below it briefly referred to the front page of the previous day, which had announced that Sirius Black was in fact innocent of the crimes for which he had been imprisoned, but then laid out the main outcomes of Sirius' trial. " _Following his being pronounced not guilty, Mr Black was recompensed for his unlawful incarceration. He did not, however, end his business with the Wizengamot there. Mr Black proclaimed to the Mot that he was intending to sue Barty Crouch and Minister Fudge for imprisoning him without a trial, and also to sue Albus Dumbledore. The reason for this is that Mr Black, following the last wills and testaments of James and Lily Potter, Mr Black is the rightful and legal guardian of Harry Potter. Dumbledore knew this, and yet placed the Boy-Who-Lived with his sole living blood relatives, who are Muggles. These Muggles hated magic, and as a result, treated the young Harry like a house elf, and worse._

 _This reporter wonders how sound the judgement of Albus Dumbledore is in his old age if he thinks that a house of magic haters was a safe environment for a wizarding child, let alone the Boy-Who-Lived. In addition, the use of Hogwarts to store a Philosopher's Stone to serve as a trap for You-Know-Who, is cause for severe concern. I also worry about the safety and stability of wizarding Britain, given Dumbledore's three posts: Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. One man should not have so much power!"_

The four House tables were a buzz of noise as the student discussed the article, and voiced their predictions for what might happen. All predicting stopped, however, when the Hall doors opened to reveal Geoffrey Coombes, the head of the IDEAS office. He had the whole Board of Governors with him, and they were furious. Silence fell as Mr Coombes strode down the Hall to the teacher's table. "Professor Albus Dumbledore! By result of a vote of no confidence among the Governors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and by my authority as Head of the Ministerial Office for Inspecting and Determining Educational Achievement and Standards, you are hereby dismissed from your post as Headmaster. Note that I said not "suspended", but "dismissed". You. Have. Been. Sacked. Now get out of this castle."

You could have heard a pin drop as Dumbledore got up from his thronelike chair and made his way out of the Hall. The Governors followed him to make sure he actually left. When the doors closed again, Mr Coombes cleared his throat. "Now, that's out of the way. Professor McGonagall?" Professor McGonagall started as Mr Coombes turned to face her. "Until such time as a replacement for Dumbledore is found, the Board appoints you to the position of Acting Headmistress. Congratulations."

And with that, his business concluded, a man the whole school now feared because of a few sentences, left, to stunned silence.

 **A/N: Boom! Big changes are going to happen soon, in more than one way…**


	31. Chapter 31: Cleaning for Christmas

**Chapter 31: Cleaning for Christmas**

While Christmas was still over a month away, Sirius had his work cut out for him. Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the Black family home, was filled with dust, grime and horrible antiques. The only thing that was actually clean was the portrait of Sirius's mother, which Kreacher the elderly house elf practically worshipped. Or, **had** worshipped, rather. The first time Sirius had entered the house, Kreacher had refused to believe his rightful Master was back, and then had endeavoured to twist his orders in such a way so that he could get away with the bare minimum of work. This continued for a week, until Sirius snapped and threw a musty old scarf at Kreacher.

The shock of being given clothes had been the wand that broke the house elf's back. Cursing Sirius the whole while, Kreacher went into the kitchen and fulfilled his life's ambition, courtesy of briefly levitating a cleaver.

Sirius was then free to make all the changes he wanted without the deranged elf's interference. He took down the stuffed house elf heads, threw out the troll's foot umbrella stand, cast cleaning spells on everything he could, and then came the coup de grace. His mother's portrait. Sirius, even though he tried his hardest, couldn't take the old bag's picture down from the wall. "You stuck it there with a Permanent Sticking Charm, didn't you, you bat?", he thought to himself. "You probably protected it against damage too, but I bet you didn't bother protecting the wall…"

A quick trip into London and a couple of hours later, Sirius finally put down the hammer and chisel. His mother's portrait was now off the wall, leaving an inch deep square hole the same size as the frame. Mrs Black had been silent the whole time, thanks to a Silencing Charm recast every few minutes.

Following a few minutes of wandwork, there was a hole in the cellar floor three feet deep, into which Sirius unceremoniously chucked Mrs Black and then filled it in with Carter's Charmed Concrete. The enchanted concrete was bewitched to leave a perfectly smooth surface and set in minutes. But despite all this, there was a lot of work still to do. The hole in the wall by the front door needed filling in, for starters. Sirius knew he wouldn't be able to manage the upkeep of the house by himself, so he wrote a brief letter to the House-Elf Relocation Office at the Ministry, asking if they had any elves with suitable experience available. A few hours later, he received a reply.

" _Mr Black,_

 _We have one elf that is suited to your needs at the moment. He is in need of a new master following his previous master's death, and his master's family were not able to keep his service due to serious financial problems that led to the loss of their home. If you would come to the office at your earliest convenience, we will transfer mastery of the elf to you._

 _Following information obtained from the elf, we respectfully ask that you do not ask or order him to tell you about his previous masters, as doing so will cause him to attempt to "punish" himself._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Graham Branstocke."_


	32. Chapter 32: An Out-of-this-World Trip

**Chapter 32: An Out-Of-This-World Trip**

It was now agreed by the students that one of the best subjects at Hogwarts was Dimensional Magic. Sure, it was hard, but it was magic that was different to what they knew. And it was interesting to a degree that nothing else was. This was especially true in the last week of term, when Professor Strange announced he had a surprise for those taking the subject, but they had to keep it to themselves. "As a reward for your good progress, myself and Professor Wong will be taking you on Friday afternoon to another dimension: Fandazar Foo. Be in the Entrance Hall at four thirty. If you're not there, we'll leave you behind. Class dismissed."

Each class group then did exactly the same thing - rush out of the room and proceed to find the nearest copy of _Otherworldly Realms and their Inhabitants_ to look up what Fandazar Foo was like. Each and every one of them was then even more excited about the trip. The book described Fandazar Foo as "A realm of pure magic. Magic grows on trees and bubbles out of the ground. In short, it is everywhere and everything. Even a few minutes spent here is enough to reinvigorate the most exhausted of mystics. As a crossing point between dimensions, Fandazar Foo is often used as a meeting place for Sorcerers Supreme. The Vishanti occasionally use it as a battleground, holding contests to decide the Sorcerer Supreme of our dimension. Spells cast using energy drawn from Fandazar Foo are generally for healing, as it is a realm of peace."

When the appointed time came, it was a large and excitable group of students who proceeded through the portal Professor Strange conjured. Their first reaction was to stare in wonder, with eyes wide and mouths open. Ornate bridges formed a network between floating islands. Singing flowers grew all over the place, in amongst trees with leaves in every colour of the rainbow. Colossal stone heads looked down from the sky. Almost omnipresent were large blue slugs, some of them with wings. As the last of the group came through the portal, a _person_ about three feet tall with purple skin and a tail walked past them, deep in conversation with a levitating head in a jar.

As the portal closed, Professor Strange walked to the front of the group. "Alright, listen up. Rules for while you're here. One: For your own safety, do not eat anything. Two: Do not draw your wands for any reason. These," he said, pointing at one of the slugs, "are Een'gawori slugs. They eat magic. And since your wands are of a different kind of magic than they're used to, drawing your wand will attract them to you like flies to manure. Three: While you may talk to anyone you find here, do not make or accept any offers or deals. If you have any trouble, tell whoever it is that you are here with Doctor Strange. And finally: Don't wander off too far. Now, off you go. Explore and enjoy."

A few hours later they returned to Hogwarts, grinning like fools, feeling like they'd had a really good night's sleep, and wishing they could go back


	33. Chapter 33: Coming Home

**A/N:** I've started writing _The Serpent Becomes A Lion_ , which follows Draco now he's a Gryffindor. Chapter 1 is up, more to come soon!

 **Chapter 33: Coming Home**

When the Hogwarts Express arrived to collect those who were going home for the Christmas holidays, Harry was excited. His new home was ready. Several hours later, he stepped off the train onto Platform 9&3/4 and was promptly bear hugged by Sirius, who was acting the rapid-fire-questioning-concerned-parent.. "Heya, Pup. School treating you alright? How's Quidditch practice going? Any girls you need advice about?" "Can't… breathe…" gasped Harry. Sirius released his godson, then repeated the questions as they walked towards the barrier. "Yes, great - we thrashed Hufflepuff easily last match, and no, are the answers to that. But Malfoy's in Gryffindor now."

Sirius was so stunned by this revelation that he stopped dead in his tracks. He gaped like a fish for a minute before he found his voice again. "Malfoy… in Gryffindor… not Slytherin… HOW? WHY?!" Harry shrugged. "He came back to Hogwarts at Halloween and got Sorted again. Dumbledore said before the feast something that was pretty much "It's none of your business, but if you've been reading the Daily Prophet, you'll probably be able to work it out."" Sirius paused to think and remember. _"Malfoys are rich. Lucius is a Death Eater. Lucius dies suddenly. Malfoy Manor gets searched and seized. Malfoys no longer rich, Death Eaters who weren't caught get exposed and sent to Azkaban. Children of Death Eaters are Draco's Slytherin housemates. Their fathers now in prison or executed, they take it out on Draco because it's his father's fault. Draco afraid for his safety if he remains in Slytherin_."

"Ah. I get it now. Draco was afraid that if he went back into Slytherin he'd spend the rest of the year in the hospital wing. But that's enough of that. Let's get home, there are a couple of people for you to meet."

-Scene change - Number 12, Grimmauld Place -

Harry smiled as he walked through the door. For the first time in his life, he was _home_. It looked like Sirius had tried to turn the house into a bigger and more luxurious version of the Gryffindor common room. Different shades of red and gold were everywhere, and anything wooden was practically gleaming with varnish and polish. As he drank it all in, Sirius looked at him and said "Go on, Pup. Leave your stuff, go upstairs and find it." "Find what?" "Your _bedroom_ , of course!" Harry dropped his trunk and ran up the stairs, until he came to the door on which was written "Harry's Room". Except Sirius had played a little joke on him, and written it as if Harry had done it while he was still learning to write - "HawWy'5 WoOm". Opening the door, Harry's attention was immediately focused on two things. One, the bedside table had pictures of his parents on it. Two, the picture frames were being dusted by a two foot tall _something_ with bat-like ears, eyes the size of tennis balls and wearing a red tea towel.

As Harry drew breath to scream, the thing turned round to see him, then threw itself on the floor and said in a voice of wonder, "Great Master Harry, Sir, you is being home! Dobby be sorry if Dobby scared you, but Dobby needed to clean Great Master Harry, Sir's room. Dobby be fetchings Great Master Harry, Sir's thingses, and Great Master Harry, Sir, be going downstairs to meet Master Sirius' Miss Francey. She be in the kitchen with Master Sirius." With a snap of his fingers, Dobby disappeared and promptly reappeared with Harry's trunk, then started unpacking it.

Harry closed the door and went back downstairs, looking for the kitchen. When he found it, he also found Sirius in a passionate embrace with a woman with golden-brown wavy hair and brown eyes. On noticing Harry's presence, they broke apart and tried to act like nothing had happened. Sirius was first to break the silence. "Find your room OK, Pup?" "Yeah, I did. But you could have warned me about Dobby though." "Where's the fun in that? Oh, I'm forgetting myself. Harry, this vision of loveliness is -"

"- Francine Griffiths, soon-to-be Francine Black if I have my way," the woman cut in. "I was friends with your mum at Hogwarts, Harry. I'm technically your godmother. Welcome home."


	34. Chapter 34:Christmas

**A/N** : I apologise for the delay in updating. My train of plot was stopped on its rails by a massive writer's block. Hopefully, the story will now continue with no significant delays.

 **Chapter 34: Christmas**

The few days before Christmas, were in Harry's opinion, just as good as Christmas Day itself. There were actual, physical presents, yes, but the best presents were the ones he got early, and didn't have to unwrap. He had a family that cared for and loved him. He had a bedroom that was exclusively his, not a dump site for Dudley's broken or unwanted things that he'd been moved into because he didn't fit in the cupboard under the stairs any more, with a wardobe full of clothes that fitted him properly. He could do magic at home without having to do it in secret. And true stories about his parents, told by people who had known and loved them.

When Christmas morning came, Harry walked into the living room to discover a pile of presents almost as tall as he was. Stunned by the heap, he didn't notice Sirius and Francine sneak up behind him until they shouted "Merry Christmas, Harry!" A few minutes later, when Harry had recovered from his shock, they started opening presents. Harry and Francine spent most of the next couple of hours laughing their heads off. It seemed that Sirius had been extremely literal when he'd said following his trial that he had eleven years of presents to buy.

A number of them were aimed at boys younger than Harry - clothes that would have fit him once upon a time, a succession of toy wands and broomsticks, children's books, and a few empty boxes that were none-the-less covered in bright wrapping paper. When Harry got to those, he looked at Sirius, who shrugged and said "I couldn't think what to get for presents for when you were a baby, Pup, but then I thought "Hey. Babies are always more interested in the shiny paper than the actual present, so there doesn't need to actually be anything in the box."" Most of the presents were suitable though. Harry got a set of Quidditch armour that was enchanted to adjust to when he grew, a large hamper full of chocolate and sweets, a broom repair and maintenance kit, a homemade woolly jumper and a package of fudge from the Weasleys, and books from Hermione.

Sirius and Francine also exchanged gifts, but some of them they kept hidden in the wrapping paper, away from Harry's eyes. When he asked why, Francine replied that they were things he wasn't ready to know about yet. Satisfied, Harry leaned forward from his seat to grab another present. As he did so, he could have sworn that he heard Francine whisper into Sirius' ear "You're not getting your biggest present till tonight, lover."

Eventually, all the presents were was strange, though, was that at the bottom of Harry's pile, there was a letter for him. It turned out to be from Draco Malfoy.

In the letter, Malfoy apologised for his behaviour towards Harry the previous year. He explained why he had behaved that way, and thanked him for the brief conversation they had had at breakfast the morning after Halloween. He went on to say that he had talked to Professor Strange the same day, and he had visited and was now regularly visiting and was be in communication with a Professor Xavier, who has extensive experience in helping people with mental trauma. Malfoy ended the letter by expressing a hope that when they returned to Hogwarts after the holidays, they could become friends.

 **A/N 2:** If you want to find out exactly what Draco said in the letter, it will be detailed in my other story, _The Serpent Becomes A Lion._


	35. Chapter 35: Court and Crouch

**Chapter 35: Court and Crouch**

When the Christmas holidays ended, Sirius dropped Harry off at Platform 9 & 3/4, then went to the Ministry of Magic. It was the day that his lawsuits against Fudge and Barty Crouch were being heard in Courtroom 7.

*The real world breaks into the story briefly, playing the theme tune for Judge Judy.*

When Sirius reached the courtroom, he was pleased to see that Crouch and Fudge were already in the defendant chairs, visibly perspiring. He was even more pleased to see that Griselda Marchbanks was presiding over the case. In addition to being part of the Wizarding Examination Authority, she was also a renowned judge, known for her scathing tongue that could ruin reputations with a few sentences. Sirius took his place at the plaintiff stand, and the trial began.

"Mr Black, since you have already been recompensed for your unlawful incarceration, why are you bringing this case into my courtroom?" "To see justice done, Your Honour," Sirius replied. "Yes, I have been recompensed for my stay in Azkaban, but those who caused it to happen have not yet been sanctioned for it." Sirius knew he could relax now. That was the sole question that would be put to him, since any other question that could have been asked of him had already been answered under Veritaserum at his trial. Judge Marchbanks focused her interrogation on Crouch next.

"Mr Crouch, when your Aurors arrested Mr Black, why was he not held in custody pending trial?" "He was believed to be a Death Eater, Your Honour. At that time, Auror policy for suspected Death Eaters was immediate incarceration." "Hold on, Mr Crouch. _Suspected_ Death Eaters? Not confirmed?" "Yes." "Mr Crouch, what is the identifying mark of a Death Eater?" "The Dark Mark tattooed on the inside of the left forearm, Your Honour. "And the Dark Mark is the image of…? "A snake emerging from the mouth of a human skull, Your Honour."

The judge turned back towards Sirius. "Mr Black, would you please roll up your left sleeve, and show the inside of your arm to Mr Crouch." Sirius did so. "Mr Crouch - and before you answer, this is a yes or no question - is the Dark Mark on Mr Black's arm?" "No, Your Honour. It isn't." "Thank you Mr Black, you can put your sleeve back now. Mr Crouch, in addition to the charges Mr Black is bringing against you, I find myself also bringing against you the charge that you are a moron! Since we know that the Dark Mark cannot be removed or concealed, it is patently obvious that Mr Black is not, nor has ever been, a Death Eater. That's strike one. Three strikes and Mr Black wins the suit."

Sirius could see that Crouch was worried he was going to lose. It was practically written on his face in three-inch high letters. "Next, Mr Crouch, we come to the actions Mr Black was charged with - the killing of twelve Muggles, and a violation of the Statute of Secrecy. We'll deal with the Statute violation first. The fact that the violation happened proves that there were Muggles present. Mr Crouch, what is standard procedure for dealing with Muggles witnesses of Statute violations?" "To call in a squad of Obliviators, Your Honour, and repair of any damage caused as a result of the violation." "Was there any form of evidence proving a violation of the Statute save the Muggle witnesses and physical damage to the street?" "No, Your Honour." "Then that's strike two, Mr Crouch. Since the Muggles were Obliviated of the incident and the street was restored to how it was before the incident, for all legal purposes, the Statute violation never happened."

"Finally, we come to the murder of the dozen Muggles. Was _Priori Incantatem_ cast on Mr Black's wand when Aurors arrived at the scene?" "No, Your Honour. Since it was believed that Black was a Death Eater, it was not cast. Even if it had been, he could have killed the Muggles and then cast another spell to conceal his prior casting, since _Priori Incantatem_ only shows the single most recent spell cast from a wand." "Mr Crouch, that's strike three against you. Since any witnesses were Obliviated of the event, it is my judgement that any testimony they gave was invalidated by its erasure from their memories. Further, since Mr Black had evidence of his innocence, which you could have easily obtained but for the fact that you have proven yourself to be a moron, it was on you to provide evidence of his guilt beyond reasonable doubt. Even if you had such evidence, Mr Black did not receive a trial within 30 days of his arrest, as is the law. Therefore, it is the judgement of this court that you are guilty of the charges of unlawful arrest and unlawful imprisonment. Since Mr Black has already received financial recompense from the Ministry, you will not be fined." Crouch visibly sagged in relief, but Judge Marchbanks wasn't done. "You WILL, however, be suspended from your position as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, until the conclusion of an investigation into the Department's behaviour during the period of Death Eater activity that concluded on the 31st October 1981. At the end of the investigation, depending on its outcome, you may be going to Azkaban yourself."

During Crouch's interrogation, Fudge had been sat in his chair sweating profusely and twirling his bowler hat in his hands. He stopped twirling when the judge turned to look at him. "Mr Fudge, since this investigation also affects you, the trial for your part in Mr Black's imprisonment is postponed until its conclusion. However, since Mr Crouch acted under your authority as Minister for Magic, you are suspended from the position until the same point in time. I warn you that any information discovered that pertains to unlawful behaviour on your part will be investigated and may result in additional charges being brought against you. Court concluded."


	36. Chapter 36: A New Term & A New Friend

**A/N:** A few reviewers have pointed out to me that in the canon, Crouch Sr was demoted to the Department for International Magical Co-Operation following the First Wizarding War, and that Fudge only became Minister in 1990. To them, I have this response: Please go back to the description for this fic, and re-read the part where it says that it gets AU pretty quickly. AU: Alternate Universe. Therefore, this fic will not follow the canon exactly. It will differ in places, and all such differences are completely intentional. To find out how these differences unfold, I suggest you keep reading.

 **Chapter 36: A New Term And A New Friend  
**

When Harry got onto the Hogwarts Express after saying goodbye to Sirius, he found Ron and Neville in a compartment comparing their wands. Or rather, their new wands. "Hey Harry, how was your Christmas?" asked Ron. "Great," replied Harry, "but Sirius played a few pranks on me - some of my presents were for when I was a baby and growing up. How were your Christmases?" In answer, both Neville and Ron held up new, polished wands. "Gran got a letter from Ollivander," explained Neville. "He said that he'd heard from one of the teachers that I wasn't doing very well at spells because I was using my dad's wand, and he reminded her that the wand chooses the wizard. So she took me to Diagon Alley during the holidays and I got this - thirteen inches, cherry, with a unicorn hair core."

"Someone sent me the money for mine - fourteen inches, willow, unicorn hair core - as a present," said Ron. "It was a good thing they did, the unicorn hair was starting to poke out of Charlie's old one." "Do you know who it was?" asked Neville. "Nope, not a clue. They didn't sign the note that came with the money. They had really squiggly writing, though." "Must have been one of the teachers," Harry shrugged. "I mean, it wasn't me, I sent you a parcel of Muggle sweets, and a letter to your parents saying thanks for having me stay over the summer. No-one else in Gryffindor would have done it, except maybe Hermione, but she writes neatly." They sat there for a few minutes , pondering the mystery, until Harry had an idea. "Ron, do you still have the note that came with the money?" "Yeah, here it is," he replied, passing it over. "What do you want it for, though?" "To see if the handwriting's the same as my letter from Professor Strange. You know, the letter I got over the summer when I was staying at your house?" Comprehension spread across Ron's face. "Oh yeah! If they're the same, it means that he sent me the money!"

Harry swung his trunk down from the luggage rack, narrowly missing whacking Hermione in the head with it as she entered the compartment, and rummaged through it until he found the letter Professor Strange had sent him during the summer. Put side by side, it was clear to see that Professor Strange had sent Ron the nine Galleons for a wand of his own. "Blimey! Why would he do something like this?" "Maybe he just wants you to be the best you can, and knows you can't do it without a wand that chose you." Hermione said. "By the way, Harry, did you get a letter from Malfoy over Christmas?" Before Harry could reply, Ron and Neville both exclaimed "From Malfoy?!" "Yes, from Malfoy." Hermione coolly replied. "Yeah, Hermione, I did. So he wrote to you as well, then?"

Ron gaped like a fish for a minute before managing to say "Why is _Malfoy_ writing to _you?_ He hates you!" Harry and Hermione looked at each other worryingly. Someone watching them could have read the silent conversation as "Should we tell him?" "If Draco was OK with us telling people, he would have said so in the letter." "Well, what if we just tell him the very basics? He'll probably try and get it out of Draco otherwise tonight." "Alright then, tell him. But only what he needs to know."

Harry took a deep breath, then said "He doesn't hate us, Ron. He never did. But he had to act like he hated us last year. We can't tell you why, because it's private. When he decides he's ready for everyone to know, you'll know then." Ron's confusion didn't go away for the whole journey to Hogwarts, especially when Harry and Hermione left the compartment to go and find Malfoy. A few minutes later, Harry came back to get his luggage. "I'll explain when I can, Ron. Just trust me, OK?"

When they arrived at Hogwarts, Ron's confusion reached its peak when he saw Harry and Hermione forego sitting with him at the feast, and instead sat with Malfoy!


	37. Chapter 37: The Endings of Change

**Chapter 37: The Endings of Change**

Before the beginning of term feast started, Professor McGonagall had a few announcements to make. "Welcome back, everyone. Since you were last here, there have been a few changes. First of all, the stairs of the Grand Staircase no longer move. The entire staircase has been modified to accommodate this. Secondly, the disused classrooms have been renovated into common areas, study rooms, and club rooms. Reservation of a club room must be done by the club president, through me. Finally, we have a new Headmistress - Professor Wainwright".

It hadn't escaped the notice of the students that there was someone sat in what had been Dumbledore's chair. The new Head was short, almost as short as Professor Flitwick, with steel grey hair made into a neat bun. She briefly stood to polite applause, gave a short speech summarising her achievements, and then the feast began.

A couple of hours later, feeling extremely full, Harry got his first look at the new Grand Staircase. It put him in mind of an enormous tree, made of stone. The stairs now wound around a colossal pillar. At the points where the stairs reached another floor in the castle, there was a balcony area, with elegant bridges reaching out to the doors. As he climbed the stairs, Harry realised that the balconies had been put in so you could stop if you got dizzy or short of breath. He also noticed that they got larger the higher he went, presumably so pranksters couldn't drop things onto people on the balconies below them. Candelabras hung from the undersides of the balconies and bridges, as well as extending from the edge of the staircase, looking like fruit hanging from branches.

As Harry climbed the stairs, he caught up with Draco. "I need to warn you Draco, Ron'll try and get why me and Hermione are being nice to you out of you at some point. I've told him that what you were last year was an act and that he'll know the full story when you're ready to tell it, but I don't think he's going to leave it there." "Thanks for the heads-up, Harry. I'll deal with him."

Thankfully, Ron didn't start anything that night, but Harry was still worried for Draco. Could Ron understand that people who were treated badly by people who were supposed to care for them would do anything to stop the hurting, even if that meant changing their entire self? He was so thankful that he was no longer living with the Dursleys. One of his Christmas presents from Francine had been a book of highly dangerous but thankfully extremely rare magical creatures. One called an Obscurus had particularly caught his interest. An Obscurus was created when a young witch or wizard was forced into trying to suppress their magic. The Obscurus was dangerous because it was the embodiment of the creator (or Obscurial)'s magic. When one appeared, it was extremely powerful (and its power grew the longer the Obscurial had been suppressing for), unpredictable, and nigh impossible to contain, though Newt Scamander had managed it once.

Draco had not been in danger of becoming an Obscurial, but Harry understood the trauma he had been through. He had experienced similar treatment himself, after all. The other Gryffindor boys soon arrived in the dormitory, and after some brief conversation (Harry noticed that apart from him, none of them addressed Draco or even paid attention to him), they went to bed.

 **A/N:** Apologies for the delay! I've had a busy couple of weeks, which meant no time to write. I've also started working on a (hopefully) short work telling Narcissa's side of events, (titled _A Shoulder to Cry On_ , chapter 1 up now) which took part of what little writing time I had. Advance notice: From the 27th July to the 3rd of August I will be on a camp in an area of north Wales with no Internet, so there will be no updates during that week, and probably the week after as I recover from it and get back into writing focus.


	38. Cornelius' Corruption & Confession

**Chapter 38: Cornelius** **'** **Corruption and Confession**

When Fudge got to his office, (just because he'd been suspended didn't mean that he no longer had any work to do, after all), he was extremely distressed to find it already occupied. Worse, it was occupied by a team of six Unspeakables, Madam Marchbanks, and a young blond man wearing a leather jacket. "Good morning, Cornelius." Madam Marchbanks greeted him from behind his desk. "I shouldn't have to introduce certain persons here, but this is Mr Blaze. He's come to us on the joint recommendation of Professor Strange and Mr Murdock, who you should remember is Sirius Black's lawyer. He's an expert in dealing with corruption."

At that moment, a woman almost universally reviled by her superiors and feared by her underlings entered the room. Delores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, could easily be imagined as resembling the end result of someone enlarging a toad, giving it opposable thumbs and hair, before dressing it in all in pink. She was just on the verge of greeting Fudge when the saccharine tone of voice she reserved for her superiors was replaced with the vitriol she reserved for those who displeased her. "What do you think you are doing, Griselda?! This is the Minister's office! I have…"

Umbridge barely managed to start getting the first of her protestations out of her mouth before Mr Blaze snapped his attention to her and strode across the office in three steps. And as he did, he changed. With the first step, his eyes flashed a fiery red. With the second, his head and hands burst into flame, burning down to the bone in an instant and filling the room with the stench of brimstone. And with the third step, the man-and-more-than-man known to his allies as Ghost Rider seized her by the neck and lifted her off the floor. Her face was already one of terror, and then the demon spoke in an echoing, guttural voice, underlaid with the calm tones of barely contained righteous fury.

" _DELORES JANE UMBRIDGE. YOUR SOUL IS STAINED WITH THE SUFFERING OF THE INNOCENT. YOU WILL FEEL THEIR PAIN. LOOK INTO MY EYES."_ Fudge watched as Delores screamed. It was like no scream he had heard before, and it would haunt him to the end of his days. When she eventually stopped screaming, the thing dropped her to the floor. Fudge almost screamed himself, for Delores' eyes had been replaced with orbs of solid black, and there was no indication that she was still alive, save that she slowly blinked once, before staring into nothingness.

Then the fiery skeleton turned to face him, and he almost soiled himself with terror. " _CORNELIUS OSWALD FUDGE. YOUR SOUL IS STAINED, BUT YOU ARE NOT YET LOST. REPENT, OR I WILL FIND YOU, AND YOU SHALL FEEL THE PENANCE STARE. THIS IS YOUR SOLE WARNING."_ The flames cloaking the skull flickered out, and Mr Blaze's appearance returned to normal. "Sorry about that," he said pleasantly and with a sheepish grin on his face, "but I could tell she was evil as soon as she walked in here." Fudge gaped like a fish for a minute before he found his voice. "Wh-what was that?!" "That," said Madam Marchbanks crisply, was Mr Blaze's special way of dealing with illegality and/or evil, Cornelius. No investigations or trials needed. He just knows whether someone is guilty or not. And apparently, you are. So out with it."

His heart still pounding with fear in his chest, Fudge conjured a chair, sat on it, then began to confess. He confessed the bribes he'd taken. He confessed that he'd manipulated low level Wizengamot members into decrying the expense of producing Veritaserum so those who ended up on trial or arrested he wished to remain free could lie under questioning. He confessed to the Minister's Office owning a secret majority of the Daily Prophet's shares, so that it only printed what the Minister wanted printing. Fudge didn't stop confessing, with occasional breaks to drink some water, for the next two and a half hours. When he finally stopped, his throat was hoarse and he was on the verge of sobbing into his hands. He hardly noticed that Aurors Moody and Shacklebolt had entered and were standing behind his chair.

"Is that everything, Cornelius?" "Y-yes, Griselda." Then you can take Prisoner Fudge away now, Aurors." In his grief, Fudge barely noticed Moody and Shacklebolt lift him to his feet, nor did he hear Shacklebolt say "Cornelius Fudge, you are under arrest for corruption, deception of the public trust, manipulation of the newspapers, perverting the cause of justice and obstruction of justice. In light of your confession, you have waived the right to a trial. You will be held in custody until the investigators come to agreement upon your sentence."


	39. A Dark and Murderous Crouch Emerges

Extended Author's Note. Subject: Fudge, the Ghost Rider, and Justice.

Before any backlash comes my way from my treatment of Fudge at the end of the previous chapter, I am going to address a couple of potential issues.

"He confessed under duress!" It would be the same if he'd given the information under Veritaserum or the Imperius Curse. He would never volunteer it willingly, and his position allowed him to erase the existence of any physical evidence.

"Confessing means you waive the right to a trial?! What kind of system is that?!" The wizarding justice system, which is messed up in the canon: Harry was on trial as a minor, without his guardians present. (OOTP) Dumbledore only counts while Harry's at Hogwarts, and even then only if his legal guardians can't be contacted (in loco parentis). In addition - the Wizengamot tried him, and the Harry Potter Wiki states "The Wizengamot is wizarding Britain's high court of law and parliament." IRL, that would be like someone being tried by the House of Commons!

PS. Apologies for the delay in updating, but Kevin Thorn's twin brother decided to visit again. If you understand the reference, give yourself a chocolate!

 **Chapter 39: A Dark and Murderous Crouch Emerges**

Following his suspension as DMLE head, Barty Crouch had stayed at home. He was worried, not just about his future, but about the future of his secret. For Barty Crouch Senior knew what the rest of wizarding Britain did not - rather than being "missing, presumed dead", Barty Junior was in fact alive. He was also what the Muggles termed a "spook", an agent so secret none of his fellow agents knew about him. Unfortunately, he was Voldemort's spook. While the Ministry knew that the Dark Mark could not be concealed magically, they had never considered that a Death Eater might use Muggle cosmetics to cover it up. It was this that had led to Junior's current condition: his father had walked in on him applying the makeup to his arm. But Crouch Senior knew he could not bear the shame of a Death Eater son, so he imprisoned him in a concealed room in their house, and forbade their house-elf Winky to communicate with him or attempt to free him in any way.

Madam Marchbanks' trio of investigators knew none of this as they walked up the path to the front door of the Crouch residence. Knocking on the door, they exchanged pleasantries with Crouch Senior before entering the house and beginning their task. One interviewed him, the second took notes, and the third started searching for physical evidence and hidden things. "Occultum revelio!" The wizard turned sharply to his fellows. "There's a concealed room in the cellar. If it's not a hiding place from the War you might be in a heap of trouble, Barty. Lead the way, please." Crouch led the way, his heart pounding in his chest. If this went badly, he knew they were probably going to die. The cellar, on first appearances, held nothing more than the boiler, Winky's nest of blankets in one corner, a half full sack of potatoes and other root vegetables, and a mostly empty bottle rack.

One wall, however, was bare. Three stern stares from the investigators and Crouch removed a bottle from the rack and replaced it in another spot. A section of the wall swung open, and the investigators were shocked. "Merlin! It's Barty Junior!" one breathed. Junior was sat in a chair, in chains and shackles. A leather mask on the lower half of his face prevented him from speaking, but the hate and raging fury in his eyes was unmistakable. The investigators drew their wands. Two pointed them at Senior, and began placing him under arrest. The third, before Senior could warn him, waved his at Junior. "Relashio!" The chains, shackles and mask all fell off, and before any of them could react, Junior Apparated to the investigator who released him and snatched the wand from his hand. "Bombarda Colossa!"

The next day, the Daily Prophet carried the headline _"DARK MARK OVER RUINS OF DMLE HEAD'S HOUSE!" Yesterday afternoon, the three investigators appointed by Judge Griselda Marchbanks to interview Barty Crouch in relation to his management of the DMLE during the time of You-Know-Who's activity, were killed along with Mr Crouch when his house exploded as the result of an extremely powerful Blasting Curse. Aurors responding to the scene saw the Dark Mark over the site. Two of the investigators died in the explosion; the third was rushed to Saint Mungo's before dying of his injuries an hour-and-a-half later. During his moments of consciousness, he revealed that it was Barty Crouch Junior who had caused the explosion. Rather than missing or dead (depending who you asked) as public belief held, Crouch Junior was rather imprisoned by his father in the cellar of his house. The Dark Mark over the house reveals that Crouch Junior is also a previously unknown Death Eater, and according to the investigator, is also extremely skilled at Apparition. This reporter speculates that Mr Crouch Senior imprisoned his son in this way because he could not bear the shame and disgrace he would feel if it became public knowledge that his son was a Death Eater. The entire Auror force has been placed on high alert to search for Crouch Junior. The public are warned not to approach him if you see him,( image below, drawn from the investigator's memory just before his death) as he is in possession of a wand and is highly dangerous. Following Mr Crouch Senior's death, the new head of the DMLE is Madam Amelia Bones._ Below the article was a picture of Crouch Junior sneering down at someone lying on the ground. The caption below it read " _BARTY CROUCH JUNIOR - WANTED WIZARD NUMBER ONE. WARNING: WANDED AND TERMINALLY DANGEROUS."_


	40. Chapter 40: A Hospitalisation

**Chapter 40: A Hospitaliation**

The next morning, Harry was relieved that nothing untoward happened to Draco. Breakfast, the morning's lessons, lunch and then the classes afterward passed by, though he did notice that Ron seemed to b making a point of avoiding them. The only unfortunate things to occur didn't involve Draco, and they were all because someone made a mistake in their work. In Potions, Crabbe and Goyle appeared to descend to an even lower level of intelligence than normal, each having an accident, but the results of their accidents combined to start filling the classroom with a cloud of dark brown gas. Professor Heyerdahl ended the lesson early so the room's ventilation spells could get rid of the foul smelling vapour, and he gave Crabbe and Goyle each a week's worth of detentions.

Defence against the Dark Arts had become a lot more practical recently. Each Friday, the students would change into the martial-arts clothes on Professor Wong's side of the room, and they would duel each other in a tournament. The partners in the first round were determined by drawing names at random, and Draco ended up with Seamus Finnegan. Seamus' face darkened when Draco looked at him, and he could see that Seamus did not harbour simple dislike for him, but actively hated him. The previous year, when he was still using his facade, he had never directly done anything to Seamus, but Draco suspected that the Irish boy didn't care. As they dueled, Seamus made simple mistakes that led Professor Wong to call him out on it. "Anger will not help you in a duel, Mr Finnegan. You must maintain a cool and calm discipline. If you are angry, you are not thinking clearly. If you are not thinking clearly, you make mistakes. And depending on the mistake's severity and your opponent, you just lose or, if you're unlucky, you die."

Unknown to Professor Wong, however, Seamus did possess a calm and disciplined mind. He was just burying it beneath his seething hatred for his ex-Slytherin dorm-mate,waiting for the moment to use it. That night in Gryffindor Tower, Seamus quietly spoke to Ron, and revealed his plan to him. Later, when the other boys in the dormitory were asleep, Seamus and Ron roused themselves and got up. Quietly and carefully, to avoid waking him, they bundled up Draco's bedding with him it, carried him down through the common room, and out of the portrait hole. They paused a moment for breath, then without ceremony, _pushed Draco down the stairs._ They watched him until they could no longer see him, then went back to bed. Draco was discovered at six o'clock the next morning by Professor Flitwick, who levitated him to the hospital wing before hurrying to notify the other teachers.


	41. Chapter 41: The Crossover

**Professor Strange chapter 41/The Serpent Becomes A Lion chapter 8**

 _Stephen_

Stephen looked down at the bloodied and bandaged wreck that was Draco Malfoy. By his bedside (though Draco himself was being held three inches in the air above the bed) in the hospital wing, a potion sample rack borrowed from Professor Heyerdahl was being used as an impromptu stand for upside down bottles of Skele-Gro, Wiggenweld and Blood Replenishing Potions connected to lengths of tubing, which were in turn connected to the boy's arm. It had taken Stephen several minutes to explain intravenous medication delivery to Madam Pomfrey, but it had been him pointing out that her patient could not open his mouth to drink the potions due to a damaged jaw that had convinced her. Since Stephen began teaching at Hogwarts, he had sought to cultivate a good working relationship with his fellow medical professional, even though he himself was no longer practicing medicine.

He took a moment to ready himself, and then the golden amulet at his throat opened, the Eye of Agamotto affixing itself to his forehead. Its light penetrated the boy's mind, and Stephen searched for memories of the incident that caused the injuries….

 _Draco_

He knew nothing but pain. His bones ached with it, his muscles throbbed with it, and his skin felt like it was composed of an all-encompassing bruise. His mind ached, for the pain overloaded it. Then he felt a strange sensation in his head, and he heard Professor Strange's voice in his mind, telling him to try and relax, as the fall down the Grand Staircase flashed before him once more, but in reverse. When his memory-self reached the top of the stairs, the strange sensation took on an aspect of looking round, before withdrawing from his mind with a sense of dissatisfaction…

 _Stephen_

Stephen withdrew from Draco's memories dissatisfied. The boy had not seen his attackers. He had already asked the Fat Lady if she had seen what happened, but she had not. The Eye's light would not be helpful at the scene of the incident, since it would reveal everyone who had passed through it, which naturally, was the entirety of Gryffindor House. The Hindsight Mirror, an artefact in the Sanctum Sanctorum which could show the events of the past five hours in front of wherever it was positioned, was similarly useless - It had been more than five hours since the event, and it required the location to have been light enough to see, which it would not have been. Stephen was going to have to rely on old fashioned detective work, something he rarely got to do. He considered the case. _Physically moving a person by means of carry them in their bedding without the use of magic requires two people. Those in Draco's dormitory are the immediate suspects. Harry is discounted,as he is Draco's friend. Likewise, Longbottom can be discounted - he is far too timid to do such a thing. Draco did not naturally, throw himself down the stairs, so there are three immediate suspects: Finnegan, Thomas, and Weasley. Having observed Thomas' behaviour when teaching him, he appears to be an average student and bear no ill will towards Draco, which leaves Finnegan and Weasley._

Stephen went immediately to Professors McGonagall and Wainwright. He explained his conclusion, and Professor McGonagall shot off to drag the two cruel offenders up to the Headmistress' office, while Professor Wainwright made a couple of Floo calls to their mothers, then summoned one of the Hogwarts house elves and gave the elf some instructions. When Mrs Weasley and Mrs Finnegan arrived a few minutes later, their sons were sat in front of the three professors. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, ladies." said Professor Wainwright. "I'll be brief. In the early hours of this morning, a student was found on the Grand Staircase, covered in bruises and blood. It is a mercy that they didn't die." Both mothers covered their mouths in shock, but Professor Wainwright wasn't finished.

"Professor Strange has determined that your sons were the perpetrators of this vile act. I am in complete agreement with him and with Professor McGonagall in my decision as to how they will be disciplined. They are expelled from Hogwarts." The boys sat there with fury plain on their faces, as Professor Strange levitated their wands from their robe pockets and solemnly handed them to the Headmistress. She locked eyes with the boys, then grasped the wands firmly, and snapped them in half. When she next spoke, it was in an icy tone. "You two are lucky that underage wizards aren't sent to Azkaban. Your things are at the gate. Leave Hogwarts now, and never darken this castle with your presence again." Mrs Weasley had tears in her eyes as she left with Ron, while Mrs Finnegan dragged Seamus out of the room by his ears.

 _Draco_

When he next awoke, his mother was sat by his bedside, her face streaked with tears. Sat next to her with his arm around her was a man Draco had never seen before. The man noticed Draco's eyes flicker open first. "He's awake, Cissy." What followed was a naturally one-sided conversation between Draco and his mother, as he still couldn't talk because of his jaw. By the time Madam Pomrey came over and politely asked that he be left to rest, Draco had learned three important things. The man's name was Quentin Hardacre, his mother loved Quentin, and that they would be living with him from now on.


	42. Chapter 42: Dumbledore's Day in Court

**Chapter 42: Dumbledore** **'s Day in Court**

Courtroom Six was packed. Everyone wanted to know what was going to happen to Dumbledore, ever since it had been revealed that he had left the Boy-Who-Lived on the doorstep of his magic-hating Muggle relatives twelve years ago. Sirius sat on one side of the room, Dumbledore on the other. A dose of Veritaserum was given to each of them, and they were each asked three questions to confirm their identities. Sirius then adopted an almost lounging position in his chair, and watched as Dumbledore was grilled by Madam Marchbanks.

"Did you have Harry Potter's Muggle relatives, the Dursleys, observed before you placed him with them?" "No." "Why not?" "I believed that they would treat Harry well." "Did you receive any evidence to the contrary?" "Yes." "What evidence, from whom, and when?" "From Professor McGonagall, shortly before midnight on the night I left Harry with the Dursleys. She said that they were the worst sort of Muggles." "Why was Professor McGonagall there?" "She had been waiting there for me all day. Hagrid had told her that I would be there, but she did not know when or why."

"In the light of Professor McGonagall informing you what the Dursleys were like, why did you still leave Harry Potter with them?" "They were and are his closest blood relatives and are his only Muggle relatives. I sought to shield Harry from growing up knowing that he was famous in the wizarding world. Further, Sirius had expressed his trust in me that I could find a safe place for Harry to live, since he did not believe that Harry would be safe with him at the time." Given that Lily Potter was a Muggleborn witch, did you attempt to locate her parents so that they could raise their grandson?" "Yes, but I could not, so I assumed that they were deceased."

"So your justification for ignoring the wills of James and Lily Potter regarding the guardianship of their son is that you sought to place him in a safe home, with persons who were both blood relations and Muggles, so the Dursleys were your only option? "Yes. James Potter was an only child, and at the time, any blood relations of Harry's through James, via Harry's paternal great grandmother Dorea Black, could have been Death Eaters." "Why was it so important that Harry be placed with blood relatives? Any Muggles could have been suitable guardians." "Before leaving Harry with the Dursleys, I cast a Blood Ward Charm on him. As long as he called the Dursleys "home" or until he turned seventeen, Voldemort could not harm him while he was there."

Madam Marchbanks sighed and clapped the palm of her hand into her face. "That's the final piece of evidence I needed to make my judgement in this lawsuit, Albus. You cast a spell on Harry Potter as an infant that protected him from ONE individual, and that protection only existed in _one place_. The spell would not, and did not, protect him from anyone else who wished him harm, nor does it extend to Hogwarts, as evidenced by what happened with Quirinius Quirrell. It is clear you did not, and possibly still do not, have Harry Potter's best interests at heart. Therefore, I pronounce that you have won your case, Mr Black." Sirius grinned in relief. "As for you, Mr Dumbledore, I find you guilty of failure to comply with a wizarding will, child abuse by negligence, and child abuse by proxy. You shall be fined 250,000 Galleons. If you do not have sufficient funds, your property shall be confiscated and auctioned off to the public to raise the money. Further, a Permanent Perception Block Charm shall be placed upon you. From this day forward, though you will remain aware of his existence, you will be incapable of communicating with Harry Potter in any way, including by proxy. You shall not be able to see him, hear him or touch him. You shall not perceive him even if he should stand before you. Court concluded."

 **A/N:** Apologies for the delay in updating.


	43. Chapter 43: In Which Two Villains Meet

**Chapter 43: In Which Two Villains Meet**

Barty Crouch, no longer Junior, stalked through the dark woods of Romania. His Master was gone, but that did not mean that his plans were no longer to be carried out. Though the Death Eaters had been greatly depleted, they were still alive. True, all but he were in Azkaban, a place beyond even his skill to infiltrate. Right now though, he knew he needed to lie low. All of wizarding Britain was on the alert because of him. It would take time for the panic to subside, and for him to develop a plan for an Azkaban break-out. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, and in such an isolated place, that he was not paying attention to his surroundings. Passing between two large rocks, which had he been observant, would have drawn his attention due to the arcane symbols carved into them, he suddenly found himself whisked from the forest and into a small stone cell.

Though he tried, he soon discovered with anger and disbelief that he could not Apparate out. There was no door, and the walls were somehow resistant to the Blasting Curses that flew from his wand. Eventually, Crouch conceded to himself that his only option was to wait for his captor to make an appearance. He did not have to wait long. A man in green and black soon came to speak to him. His hair and eyes were black, and he had a cruel expression. "Who are you, to dare trespass on my domain?"

Crouch considered his words carefully. If he played his cards right, this man could be a powerful ally. "I am Barty Crouch. I did not realise I had trespassed, for I was deep in thought, considering a plan of revenge." His captor raised an eyebrow. "Revenge on whom? And for what?" "For destroying my Master, the Dark Lord Voldemort, before his plan to rule came to fruition. I seek a way to get to my allies and release them from prison. Then together, we will destroy our enemy: Stephen Strange."

Crouch's captor chuckled, but there was no humour in it. "High is your goal, Mr Crouch, if you seek to end the Sorcerer Supreme. This Voldemort you served is unknown to me, but well do I know the name of Strange, for I also seek his downfall. If you can be counted on not to betray me, you have an ally in this." "And what is your name, sir?" "My name is Mordo. Baron Mordo."

 **A/N: Apologies once again from the author! The delay in updating has been longer than I wanted, but I could not find the way to proceed from the previous chapter for a while. Writer's block is a cruel thing, especially at the start of a new plotline. I aim to finish this story within the next few chapters, and line the ending up for a sequel.**


	44. Chapter 44: The Breakout

**Chapter 44: The Breakout**

Three weeks passed. Crouch and Mordo spent them learning and planning, learning about the other and their form of magic, while together in Mordo's lab they planned the downfall of the Sorcerer Supreme and their subsequent takeover of at least part of the magical world. The first stage of this plan involved an incursion into Azkaban, breaking out the few Death Eaters that were left. Crouch supplied the intelligence, being familiar with the prison.

"Azkaban is located on an island in the middle of the North Sea, and cannot be found on any map. It is guarded solely by Dementors - creatures that feed on positive emotions and memories, reducing those who spend enough time in their presence to husks of their former selves. They can fly, and locate people by sensing the location of their minds. They cannot be destroyed, only repelled. I know who to retrieve, but not where they will be located in the prison."

Mordo smirked arrogantly, in the way he often did, that Crouch found insufferable. "Just because your magic can't locate the place Barty, doesn't mean mine can't. You should have realised that by now." Crouch watched as, going over to a workbench, Mordo flexed and twisted his fingers in a way that almost made Crouch's own ache. An ornate fiery orange pentagram appeared in the air. Mordo picked up a needle from the bench then placed it in the centre of the pentagram, with a sentence in an arcane tongue alien to Crouch's ears except for the word "Azkaban". The needle span in the air briefly, before settling into one position. "It's that way. All I need to is link it to a portal, and we can go." Crouch grabbed their brooms, recently stolen, and tossed one to Mordo. "What are we waiting for, then?" he snarled. "Let's usher in the darkness!"

With a couple of kicks, the brooms rose into the air, and Mordo opened the portal. Passing through it, the two of them were a few hundred feet above the black and stormy waters of the North Sea. The triangular fortress that was Azkaban loomed ahead. As they advanced, the air was filled with shrieking, as a swarm of Dementors rose up to meet them. Mordo raised and twisted his hands once more, and the air around he and Crouch took on the appearance of being filled with mirrors, and the screams of the Dementors and the thundering waves became muffled echoes. Crouch stopped his broom, and waited. He didn't have to wait long, as with gestures from Mordo, the wall of the prison broke apart, forming into a platform and a wide entrance.

The two landed on the platform, and Mordo gave an almost theatrical shallow bow. "After you, Barty. Let's go find your Death Eaters, shall we?" They proceeded through the prison, from top to bottom. Whenever they reached a Death Eater's cell, Crouch would indicate it. Mordo would then manipulate the Mirror Dimension to open the cell, and brought the Death Eater across. Eventually, all of them but one had been released. Crouch had a plan for that one. The escapees gladly passed through Mordo's gleaming portal to his castle, while Crouch lingered. "I would take you as well," he sneered, "but your loyalty cannot be counted on." After a gesture from Mordo, Crouch drew a sharp dagger from his belt , reached over into the real world, and drove it into the heart of the prisoner, killing him before he knew what was happening. "Goodbye, Severus." With that, Mordo and Crouch left, the portal fizzing out behind them.

When Aurors arrived a few minutes later, the only things they found were some empty but locked cells, and the cooling corpse of Severus Snape.


	45. Chapter 45:The Beginning of a Threat

**Chapter 45: The Beginning of a Threat**

Training the Death Eaters on the ways of sorcerous black magic was hard, to begin with. They were weakened, physically, mentally, magically, and emotionally, following their incarceration in Azkaban, subjected to the draining presence of the Dementors for so long. The difficulty of the teaching was further compounded by the mile-wide streak of arrogance possessed by each of them. As their strength grew, so did their capacity for snark and derision.

It took Mordo pointing out that while sorcery was a different kind of magic than what they were used to, it was also not what the Aurors were used to, meaning that once they were capable of using it, the Aurors would be powerless to stop them. The obstreperousness was swiftly replaced with a hunger and desire to progress in their study, that they might rain terror upon whosoever they pleased all the sooner. Despite their keenness, the Death Eaters struggled, and Crouch grew more restless with each passing day. Eventually, though, Mordo pronounced them ready.

Gathered in the main hall of Castle Mordo, each of the Death Eaters stood in a circle of blood, painted into runes, sigils, and glyphs. A few of them clutched their freshly bandaged forearms as Crouch and Mordo strode in and took their places. Mordo had instructed them in the performance of the ritual they were about to undertake for the past fortnight, and with a nod from him, they began.

Chanting and gesturing, speaking in a language that, of those assembled, only Mordo alone understood the true meaning of. The almost liturgical manner of the ritual carried on for some time, before drawing up into a roaring crescendo, then settling down and fading into silence. But the silence did not come before each and every participant spoke a single word thrice: "Dormammu! Dormammu! Dormammu!"

The Death Eaters did not see what happened next, but they all felt searing pain around their eyes and in the space just above and between their eyebrows. An observer would have gasped in horror as the skin around each participant's eyes became as black as volcanic ash and almost scaly, as well as the symbol that branded itself upon their brows before fading.

Then the fire crackling in the large stone fireplace grew in size and intensity all by itself, before the flames resolved themselves into the form of a face that Mordo knew well. "You have done well, Mordo, in finding me these servitors. Their hearts and minds were already black with evil before you got your hands on them, and you have extinguished the last spark of light that remained in them. Now, take them and go, spreading darkness and fear in my name; in the name of the Dread Dormammu. Soon, Stephen Strange shall fall…"

 **The End - To Be Continued…**

 **A/N:** Merry Christmas, here's the last chapter of this story. The sequel shall come…


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